Games We Play
by MyChaosTheory
Summary: Although hardened to the world, Punk's always been something of a womanizer. But when geeky, unassuming little diva AJ starts to give him a run for his money, he may just find that he's not as good at this game as he thought. Can he break the walls he's built around himself and let her in, or will AJ just be another failed promise in his book?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hey everyone! That's right, I'm back for another Punklee fic. I can't promise it will last as long as my last one, End of Heartache did, but I'll keep this baby going as much as I can. I hope you enjoy. Here's chapter one!**

Sometimes, AJ couldn't believe her luck.

Just two years ago, she was sitting in the airport, waiting for her flight to Florida to try out for FCW. She had been frightened and nervous, wanting nothing more to be able to fulfill her lifelong dreams and be able to take care of her family. And here she was now, involved in an angle with two of the most popular superstars in the WWE today- and one of them was the champion! How many divas could say that?

But ah, the champion.

AJ wasn't quite sure how to regard WWE champion CM Punk. He never failed to confuse her. Sometimes he would flirt with her, even off-camera; other times, he would simply give her a wink as he passed her in the arena. It made her almost prefer her interactions with Daniel- since their break up, he regarded her with cool professionalism and nothing else. He was simple, and while his brusque coldness with her stung at times, at least she knew what to expect with him. This was not the case with Punk.

"This is going to be so weird," AJ muttered as she brushed her hair idly.

"What do you mean?" Kaitlyn asked, glancing up at her. She was lacing up her boots.

"I have to throw him through a table," AJ reminded her, turning in her chair to face her best friend. "How is that not weird?"

Kaitlyn just laughed. "It's so cute how you stress over him," she said, tying the laces and standing up. Making out with Kane was nothing to you, and you're stressing over one little spot with CM Punk. He makes you all flustered!"

"He does not!" AJ protested with a stomp of her foot, then looked up at Kaitlyn with widened eyes as she realized her response had proven the other diva right.

"Just relax," Kaitlyn advised, taking the hair brush from AJ and setting it down. "You know what you're doing and so does he. Now come on, you have a segment with Eve to film, don't you?"

AJ nodded and rose to follow her, but her mind was elsewhere. _No, _she thought. _I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing._

* * *

"Ready to go through a table tonight?" Daniel asked, clapping Punk on the shoulder with a grin.

Punk turned around, having been wrapping his wrists. "Just make sure to catch me, Danny boy," he teased, ripping the end of the tape off and securing it.

"You know I always take care of you," Daniel assured him with a grin. "But… another thing. Don't you think you should… lay off AJ?"

Punk frowned, looking up as he drew X's on his hands. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Come on," Daniel replied. "You know what I mean. I know you're having more fun with this thing then just on-screen. Don't you think you should stop fucking with her head?"

"I'm not fucking with her head! I'm just having a little fun, and she doesn't seem to dislike it." He turned around to face the 'yes' man, fumbling with the cap of his black marker. "What? Don't tell me you suddenly care now or that she's your property again or something."

"She's not," Daniel answered with a scowl.

"Yeah, you made that pretty clear a few months ago," Punk agreed, folding his arms. "So what's the problem?"

"Nothing," Daniel muttered, shaking his head. "Never mind, all right? I'll see you later." He brushed past his long-time friend, leaving Punk alone in the locker room, confused.

_Whatever, _Punk thought, throwing his marker back in his bag. _I can do whatever I want. If AJ had a problem with it, she'd tell me. _He sat down on a bench, leaning his head back against the wall. He didn't understand Daniel sometimes. But what did it matter? Punk was enjoying himself, playing around with the geeky, spunky, unpredictable little diva. She was a refreshing change of pace. He liked her, and as far as he could tell, she liked him. It was none of Daniel's business.

Shaking his head, he stood up. He had a match to prepare for.

* * *

AJ stood just behind the curtain, taking several deep breaths. It would happen any moment now. She would skip down to the ring and interrupt the match between her ex-boyfriend and… whatever the hell Punk was to her. Friend, maybe? She wasn't sure. As usual, she had run into him in the hallway earlier.

"_Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Punk asked, flashing her his usual devilish grin. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded._

"_I have to film my segment with Eve," she answered, biting her bottom lip nervously._

"_Oh, right. For our thing later." He pushed himself off the wall and leaned closer to her, bringing one of his hands up to her face. She felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine as he gently flicked a few strands of hair from in front of her face, tucking them behind her ear. He let his fingertips linger on her cheek a moment longer. "Wouldn't want to cover up your pretty face." He smiled again and breezed past her, yet again leaving her mind completely boggled._

Her train of thought was interrupted as her music hit, the perky, upbeat theme blaring from the arena's sound system. Taking one last deep breath she skipped out, making her way down the ramp and circling the ring. The men took no notice of her, as planned. Frowning, she bent down to the apron and searched underneath for the table. It was just where they'd said it would be. She pulled it out from under the ring and set it up, pulling the legs out and making sure it was steady beside the ring post. Then she hopped onto ring, climbing up to the top rope.

Now Punk and Daniel were starting to pay attention to her. Daniel stood below her by the table, waving his arms wildly in a desperate-looking attempt to stop her from jumping. Punk climbed up the post to talk to her directly, his eyes filled with concern and his voice sounding genuine. He was a good actor, she would give him that much. Suddenly, another plan of action occurred to her- one that would turn this match even more on its head, and show Punk just exactly what he was messing with.

Holding onto the rope with one hand, she placed the other on the back of his head and drew him closer to her. His eyes widened in confusion, trying to sort out what was happening, but before he could say another word, she locked her lips to his.

The kiss was short, lasting only a moment before AJ broke away. Smiling at him, she placed her hands on his chest and gave him a rough shove. He tumbled back, crashing into Daniel and through the table as planned. Satisfied with her work she climbed back down, smiling at the boys before skipping off to the back.

_Let _that _give him something to think about, _she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Wow, great response already. Thanks so much everyone! Hope you enjoyed chapter one, here's two!**

Punk was expecting to have to ice his back after the July 2nd episode of RAW. What he was not expecting, however, was having to nurse a bruised ego.

"What's wrong with you?" Alex Riley asked, handing him an ice pack.

"Nothing," Punk grumbled in reply, snatching the pack from his friend's hand and applying it to his scraped back. He winced as the cold temperature touched his burning skin.

"Come on," Alex prodded, poking the champion's ribs. "Tell me."

"Poke me one more time and you're not getting that finger back," Punk warned, glaring at him.

"Jeez, all right," Alex muttered, holding up his hands in defeat. "Just trying to-"

"She one-upped me!" Punk snapped. "A 25-year-old chick caught me off-guard and one-upped me. That never happens! When has that _ever _happened?"

Alex howled with laughter. "That's what this is about?" he asked. "The kiss? You're upset because she kissed you? You're the one who flirts with her! All the time!"

"You don't get it," Punk snapped, shifting the ice pack so his arm could rest more easily. "That was my game. I took the lead. But this…"

"Womanizer Punk has his panties in a bundle because little AJ made a move he didn't plan," Alex teased with a grin. "Boo-hoo. Get over it. You started it, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Punk muttered. He quickly changed the subject. "Are you riding in my bus tonight?"

Alex shook his head. "I'm going with Zack," he answered. "We got a rental car. I think Kofi is, though."

"He rides with me every night. Can you go find him for me, then?" He normally didn't mind Alex's company, but he needed to be alone right now, and Alex could sense this.

"Sure thing," the younger wrestler replied. "Later." He ducked out of the room, leaving Punk alone with his thoughts.

Alex had been partially correct; Punk had not been prepared for AJ's impromptu kiss, sure. But he had also been unprepared for the strange, yet oddly comforting warmth the feeling of her lips on his had brought. He didn't want to feel. He just wanted to mess around, like he always did. Feeling scared him. And he hated being scared. _Shit, do I actually like her? _he thought. _For real? No way. I don't, right? What the hell is happening to me?_

* * *

"What the hell was _that_?" Kaitlyn demanded. She'd accosted AJ-who was grinning like an idiot-as soon as she cleared the curtain. "An hour ago you were terrified to _push _him, and then, suddenly, you decide it would be a good idea to _kiss _him?"

"I wanted to mix things up a little," AJ answered. "To show him he's not the only one who can play this game."

Kaitlyn raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure you want to do that?" she asked. "Because you're messing with the master, here. You know how Punk is."

"I know, I know," AJ replied. "I'm going to change, okay? I'll catch up with you later." She hurried off to the locker room, still smiling stupidly. Yes, originally she'd done it to get his attention, but now it felt like it had meant so much more. She tapped her lips with her index finger; they were still tingling, just as they had been since she'd pulled away from him and skipped off. She wasn't sure what this feeling was, but she liked it. She wanted to experience it again.

And she knew exactly how.

* * *

Punk and Kofi didn't talk much on the way to the next city for Smackdown. At first Kofi tried to coax his friend into talking, but after twenty minutes of one-word answers, the Ghana native gave up. He did, however, spend roughly half an hour picking bits of splintered table out of the angry champion's back.

The next morning, Punk was awake bright and early as usual. He never slept much, anyway. The workout equipment at the Marriot's gym was limited at best, so after lifting some weights he jogged a few miles into the city and back. By the time he showered and hopped back on the bus to get to the arena, he was already feeling a little better (minus his sore back, of course).

"So, are you off your period yet?" Alex asked, nodding to Punk as he entered the locker room.

"Watch it, Riley," Punk warned. "I'll shave your pretty little Letterman head in your sleep." He sat down on a bench, dropping his bag at his feet. "What did you and Zack end up doing last night, anyway?"

"Oh, the usual," Alex replied casually. "Hit on a bunch of attractive women and get turned down because they don't watch wrestling and have no idea what we're talking about. Once we took our shirts off for them, though… The rest is history."

"Sounds like an interesting evening," Punk said, untangling his headphones from his bag.

"It was," Alex assured him. "But there's always something I don't get. I have to actually let girls touch my abs to get them interested in me and hope they like my personality later. But you… You can smile at them and make them melt. What the fuck's the secret, man? Is it the ink or something?"

This made Punk nearly keel over with laughter. "15 years of cultivated charm," he answered. "That's all it is, really."

"Yeah, sure." Alex stretched as he stood. "I have to go find out who the fuck I'm wrestling on reject TV. I mean, Superstars. Yeah, that's it." He shook his head and left the locker room.

Punk put on his headphones, grateful to be alone. He turned up the volume on his iPhone, intent on losing himself in the music until his presence was required in the ring. _Yeah, Alex, _he thought as he selected a song. _There's a secret, all right. But now I've lost it and there's a girl driving me fucking insane. Go figure._

* * *

"So what's your 'big plan' for tonight?" Kaitlyn asked. "I know you're supposed to talk to Cole, and then Punk and Daniel are supposed to come out, but what else is on your mind?"

AJ just shrugged as she pulled on her kneepads. "You'll see," she said with a smirk.

"No, that's not fair!" Kaitlyn whined. "You're my best friend. You're obligated by moral code to tell me what's going inside that crazy head of yours."

"Oh, now I'm crazy?" AJ laughed. "You know that's just a storyline, right, Kait?"

"I thought so at first," Kaitlyn replied, "but now I'm not so sure."

She laughed again. "Just sit back and watch the fun, okay?"

Kaitlyn folded her arms, leaning back against the wall. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she pressed, her eyebrows furrowed with deep concern.

AJ simply nodded in reply, sitting down to lace up her boots. But she wasn't telling the full truth. She had an idea of what she was doing, but in truth she had no idea where this was going to go. She wasn't even sure where she w_anted _it end up. But what she did know was that she wanted to step up. She wanted to play in the big boys' league. _I'm not a little girl, _she thought, _and they're going to see that._


	3. Chapter 3

Punk stood across from Daniel in the ring, separated only a few feet, ready to shove the bastard. How dare he claim that Punk only cared about the championship! Punk knew part of this was storyline, but the accusations ran deeper; Daniel was insinuating that all of Punk's casual flirtations and his friendship with AJ were all a fraud, simply to ensure his win and his rank in the company. Daniel was using his TV time to get back at Punk for… what? For stepping on _his _territory? For moving in on a girl he wasn't even with anymore? Did it even matter? AJ wasn't complaining. Whatever the reason, now Punk was angry. He started to step forward but AJ stepped in between them, placing a hand on either of their chests and pushing them back.

Punk backed away, his eyebrows narrowed. But as he readied to launch himself again he stopped, seeing that AJ's hand had lingered on Daniel. She turned to face him, her eyes wide and bright as they stared up at her ex-boyfriend. Before Daniel realized what was happening AJ had him in a fierce lip lock, her hands curled around his back.

Punk was taken aback at the sight of them. He wasn't prepared for how much seeing AJ kiss another man-Daniel, of all people-would hurt. He felt his palms sting as they curled into fists. At first he had the insane urge to attack Daniel, but he knew he couldn't. So he turned away, unable to watch anymore, his face displaying the pain he felt as he climbed out of the ring. As he began to walk toward the ramp, he felt a small hand land on his wrist and spin him around. He turned to face AJ.

"What?" he asked quietly, holding his hands out at arm's length.

She pulled his head forward and kissed him.

Time felt as though it had stopped. For the first time in his life, Punk had absolutely no idea what to do when a girl was kissing him. He stood still for a moment but quickly began to respond, his hand coming up to rest on her lower back as his lips moved on hers. It was as though neither of them cared that this was happening in front of thousands (and later in the week, it would be millions).

It ended too soon. She pulled back from, her eyes meeting his with that innocent, slightly curious look she always gave. He found himself smiling slightly, a goofy, dumbfounded grin. But before he could say a word she had already skipped past him, her music playing. He glanced back at Daniel, touching the corner of his mouth; the two shared an utterly perplexed look as AJ made her way up the ramp, disappearing behind the titantron.

* * *

"Not now," AJ said immediately, before Kaitlyn could even open her mouth. She had already walked past an absolutely stunned Kofi Kingston, Alex Riley, and Zack Ryder.

"But-" Kaitlyn tried.

"No, I've got to go," AJ insisted. "I have to beat them to the parking lot. I'll call you later!" She ran off to the diva's locker room to get her bag.

"So you really did mean it when you said you knew how to get a man's attention," Eve hissed as AJ passed her in the hallway. "Nice job. Gonna fuck them in their cars next?"

Normally a statement like that would have bothered AJ, but today, she didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, I do know how to get attention," she called over her shoulder. "And I don't even have to dress like an escort to do it!" Before Eve could retaliate, AJ was already in the locker room. Avoiding the eyes of every other woman in the room (especially Beth Phoenix, Punk's bitter ex-girlfriend), she snatched her duffel bag and scurried out.

She almost made it. She was only a few yards away from her rental car when a taped-up hand landed on her shoulder, spinning her around much the way she had to Punk only minutes earlier. She wasn't surprised to see him.

"Oh, no you don't," he said, retracting his arm and folding it with the other against his chest. "You don't get to do that and just disappear on me."

"Oh?" she asked innocently, blinking at him. "Why not?"

"Because… fuck!" He threw his arms up angrily. "God damn it, I don't fucking know. I don't even know what to say. You're driving me insane, AJ!" He was exasperated, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathed deeply in an attempt to keep calm.

She smiled brightly. "Really? Well, now, where does that feeling sound familiar? Oh, I remember now. I feel it every day. Remember all the times you've _casually _brushed against me backstage, left your hand linger on my back or my waist just a little too long, or slipped your arm around my shoulders while we were talking? Don't think I don't know the little game you've been playing, CM Punk."

"Then what the fuck was that?" he demanded. "Daniel, and then me?"

"That?" She tilted her head ever so slightly as she looked straight at him. "That was retaliation."

"Then this is my next move," he said, grabbing her by the waist and drawing her forward into a rough kiss. His lips crashed down on hers, as though he were trying to show her just who the boss here was. He felt a small twitch of fear, that she would reject him. But she quickly began to move with him, biting his bottom lip as she embraced him. He began pushing her back gently until he had her pinned against the car, taking full advantage of their height difference as he leaned over her. He couldn't get enough of the way she tasted- tangy, like citrus.

She abruptly pulled back from him, even as her whole body yelled at her not to. "Look at us," she said teasingly, her eyes sparkling. "Making out against my car. It's like we're sixteen or something."

He was still breathless, but he forced himself to speak. "Well, that's how you've made me feel for the past two days," he said. "Confused, helpless, and wanting a girl I can't have. Like I'm 16. And you know I never own up to shit like that. So when I trick my brain into letting me say it, it's true." _Fuck! _he thought angrily. He hated feeling so powerless.

She smiled sweetly, genuinely; his admittance of vulnerability touched her. "A girl you can't have?" she echoed. "What makes you think I'm so unobtainable?"

"Well, you were just making out with your ex over there," he reminded her. "And look at me. I'm just an inked up, geeky kid from Chicago with apparently very transparent womanizing techniques."

"And I'm a non-inked, geeky kid from Union City who apparently knows how to make your head spin," she said. "You know… we're not so different, you and I."

He realized he was still holding her; the thought made him flustered again. "Then go out with me," he said suddenly, before he could stop himself.

She laughed. "Go out with you? Me? Little AJ and big, bad CM Punk?"

"Yeah, go out with me," he repeated. "Just one date. See where it goes."

She bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling. "All right," she answered. "When?"

"Tomorrow. After the house show."

"Okay," she said. "Tomorrow, then." She wiggled out of his embrace, as much as she wanted to stay in his arms. He moved back so she could unlock her car, throwing her bag in the back seat and sitting down. "Don't let me down, Punk!" she called out the window as she pulled away.

"I won't!" he called after her with a grin. He stood back to watch her drive off.

She gave him a small, measured smile as she glanced back. But inside, her heart was singing.


	4. Chapter 4

"Where the hell did they go?" Kofi muttered. He checked his phone again for the twentieth time, as though staring at the screen would somehow will it to ring.

"I'm not sure," Kaitlyn replied. "AJ said she'd call me but she hasn't and now I'm worried and I swear to God, if your stupid fucking friend took her somewhere to-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Kofi said easily, holding up his hands. "Relax. I think you're blowing things just a bit out of proportion here. You said she was trying to beat them to the parking lot, right?" Kaitlyn nodded, folding her arms. "Well, Punk probably caught up to her. And they're probably talking. I know you don't know him that well, but he's not a psychopath. Or a rapist. She's fine, trust me."

"I'm holding you to that," Kaitlyn growled. "I swear it's like I'm her mother or something, always chasing after her. She was the one who used to chase after me, you know that? That's been completely opposite in the past year. She was always the innocent one. Now she's making out with guys on TV."

"You did that once, too," Kofi pointed out. She knew exactly what he was referring to; the backstage segment with Dolph Ziggler on NXT.

She shrugged. "So? That was planned. She's doing this to fuck with them."

"People change," Kofi reminded her with a small smile. His phone started buzzing. "See? He's calling. Everything's fine. Hello?"

"She said yes!" Punk yelled, so loudly that Kofi had to pull the phone away from his ear.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Kofi winced. "Want to run that by me again?"

"Sorry," Punk muttered. "She, uh, she said yes. I asked her out and she said yes."

Kofi howled with laughter. "You asked her out? Like, on a date? An actual date? You're kidding!"

"If you don't stop laughing at me, I'm going to come over there and-"

"I- I'm sorry," Kofi wheezed, trying to regain his composure. "I just- my God, when was the last time you actually asked a chick out on an actual date?"

"I don't know, awhile?" Punk grimaced. "Look, does it matter? I already feel like some high school brat enough without your input."

"I guess not," Kofi answered. "Where are you, anyway?"

"My bus," Punk replied. "I needed to sit down and think about what just happened in my life, because I've never responded to impulse like that before."

By now, Alex had found them, attracted by the sound of Kofi's laughter. He leaned in close to listen to Punk's side of the conversation. "Let me talk to him," he whispered, and snatched the phone. "You need thinking time, huh? You sure you didn't want to be alone to-"

"Alex, is that you?" Punk snapped. "Finish that sentence and you're both walking to the next city. Got it?" He hung up.

"So?" Kaitlyn prodded, having been biting her nails throughout the conversation. "They're… what? They're dating now, or something?"

Kofi simply shrugged. "I wouldn't say they're dating," he replied. "But he did ask her out, and she said yes. Reportedly."

"Right," Kaitlyn muttered, shaking her head. "This is ridiculous. I'm calling AJ." She pushed her way past the two men.

Alex was laughing. "I love this shit," he said. "It's just great. Keeps things interesting."

* * *

AJ didn't answer Kaitlyn's phone calls that night; she had no desire to get an earful about 'falling for bad boys' again, so she sent her best friend a text instead. She told her that she was tired, and that they would meet up tomorrow.

But she didn't sleep as much as she'd hoped to. She lay awake for most of the night, considering the ramifications of her answer to Punk. She was glad he had asked her on a date, but now that she was more relaxed, she couldn't help but wonder what the backlash for her actions would be. She was playing a dangerous game- not only with Punk, but with Daniel, as well. Damn it! Why had she kissed her angry ex, when her intentions had been to garner Punk's interest? She shouldn't have done that. But it was too late to take it back now. She could only look forward and let things play out.

The next day passed with agonizing slowness. She and Kaitlyn had driven to the next house show, and while things between them were as normal as ever, Kaitlyn could tell AJ was on edge. The smaller diva was watching the parking lot anxiously, and Kaitlyn knew why- she was waiting for Punk's bus to arrive.

"You shouldn't be so over-eager," Kaitlyn said, watching as AJ glanced anxiously out the back door yet again. "He might think you're _crazy _or something."

"Oh, shut up," AJ shot back, but she couldn't help but laugh. "He doesn't think I'm crazy. I'm just excited to see him. That's not crazy… is it?"

"Oh, definitely not," Kaitlyn agreed with a nod.

"Gee, thanks," AJ muttered, but she knew Kaitlyn was kidding. As she turned to go back inside, the bus she had been so restlessly waiting for pulled into the back parking lot. "Oh, he's here!"

"Like I said, cool it," Kaitlyn reminded her, disappearing back inside the arena.

AJ nodded, trying to lean casually against the wall as Kofi and Alex walked up to the building. She frowned, seeing that it was just the two of them. "Where's Punk?" she asked.

Alex smirked. "Why, need to finalize plans for your-"

Kofi cut him off with a sharp hand gesture as AJ's cheeks heated up. "He's on his way," the tag team champion assured her. He headed inside with Alex.

A moment later Punk got off the bus, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He smiled as soon as his eyes landed on her. "Hey," he said. "Been waiting for me all this time?"

She quickly shook her head. "Oh, no, I was just hanging out here," she explained.

He chuckled, eyeing her carefully. "Sure," he said. "So, the show should get out at 11:30. We can go then. That is… if you're still interested."

"Of course!" She internally scolded herself for sounding so excited. "I mean, you know, yeah."

He laughed again, reaching out to brush her cheek gently with his thumb. "I'll see you later, then," he said, and walked past her. It felt good to be back in control of their situation, and be the one making her nervous and uncertain. It did impress him that she seemed to be the only person who was able to invoke such helplessness in him, but being in that state made him uncomfortable. He was glad he was back on top.

AJ, on the other hand, was cursing herself as she went to the diva's locker room to change into her tights._ You can't be all little-girl excited,_ she told herself. _He won't want you if you're like that. _She tried to focus on what Kaitlyn was saying-something about her match with Alicia Fox the previous week on NXT-but her mind was elsewhere. She ran a comb idly through her hair, nodding at various intervals in the largely one-sided conversation.

Midway through the show, AJ's match with Natalya was up. It was fairly quick and simple, but well-paced. The crowd seemed to enjoy AJ's all-out attacks, furthering her 'crazy' persona as usual. She defeated Natalya in a roll-up, springing to her feet when the bell rang and raising her arms in triumph. She skipped backstage and hurried to the showers. It only occurred to her when she got out and opened her bag that she had no idea how to dress for the occasion; he'd never told her where they were going. She knew he wasn't the type for fancy places, but how could she be sure? Sighing, she settled on jean shorts and her Mario Bros. shirt. It would have to do. She combed her hair and packed up her bag, taking a seat on a bench near catering to wait for him.

The next hour and a half felt like it dragged on forever. People whisked by her as the show carried on, but finally she felt a familiar tap on her shoulder. Looking up, she smiled. "Ready to go?" she asked. He looked so normal- rugged jeans, a Ramones T-shirt, and his usual Cubs hat (which looked like it had seen more than its share of wear and tear in its lifetime).

He nodded. "What are you reading?" he asked.

"Just an issue of Spiderman," she answered, closing the issue without marking her place. She hadn't been able to focus much on it, anyway. She put it away.

He sat down next to her and unzipped his bag, taking a book out. "Here," he said. "Try this." It was a volume of the first ten issues of _The Walking Dead_. "I can never get into single issues. Leaves too much to be desired. So I buy collections. When you're done with that I'll give you the next one."

She blushed, putting it in her bag. "Thank you," she said, ducking her head slightly so he wouldn't see her turning red. "So where are we going?"

He stood up, extending his hand to help her up as well. "Great pizza place not too far from here," he answered. "I try to eat there every time I'm in town."

A thought occurred to her. "How are we getting there? Your bus isn't really practical."

"I was thinking we'd take your rental car," he answered.

"Oh, but Kaitlyn's been riding with me this whole time," she said, angry at herself for not trying to figure all of this out earlier. "How will she get to the airport?"

"I talked to her," he replied. "Alex and Kofi are giving her a ride."

"What about your bus? Are you just going to leave it here?"

He laughed. "AJ, relax," he said, putting a hand on her arm gently. "I have everything worked out. You're going to have a great time tonight. Don't worry."


	5. Chapter 5

Punk was right. AJ had an absolutely wonderful time that night.

They stayed at the restaurant long after they finished eating, almost until the place closed. They talked about everything. Some of it was the usual date speak, but much of it was deeper than that- their ultimate career aspirations, their fears, their childhood dreams. All the while she stared at him over the rim of her glass of soda, giving him her full attention. At some point he had reached across the table to hold her hand; she hadn't even realized their fingers were laced together until they both moved to stand up.

"Sorry," she said quickly, reluctantly letting her hand drop from his to slide out of the booth.

He just smiled. "That's okay," he said, linking hands with her as soon as they were up. She stared up at him, looking into the twinkling green eyes that had melted her heart all night. His hand, while a little calloused, felt gentle and soft to her. Like it fit with hers perfectly. She found herself giggling as they walked to the car, feeling once again as though she were a dopey teenager on her first date. He even opened the passenger side door for her, closing it behind her before climbing into the driver's seat.

"So," he said, "I think at this point I would feel a little silly asking if it was all right to kiss you. You know, considering that whole stunt you pulled on national television. Twice."

She laughed again. "I don't think you have to ask," she said, her heart speeding up a little.

"Well, all right, then." He leaned over and kissed her. It was different this time- slow and sweet, like he wanted it to last much longer. One of his hands rested easily on the inch of exposed skin between her shirt and shorts. His touch was exhilarating- she wanted more of it. She climbed over the arm rest to settle her legs on either side of his, breaking their lips apart for only a moment. Her hands clasped his cheeks, the prick of his stubble beneath her fingertips sending a rush down her spine. He slipped his hands into her back pockets, tilting his neck to deepen their kiss. She felt his lip ring rubbing against the corner of her mouth.

He wasn't entirely sure where she intended this to go, but his body knew exactly what it wanted. He was already growing hard beneath her. He felt the desperate need to get his hands on more of her skin. He inched his hands up the back of her shirt; her skin was smooth, soft, and warm to the touch. She shifted on top of him, her hands fumbling about between them. It took him a moment to realize that she was struggling with his shirt. Pulling back he raised his arms, allowing her to work it up over his head. She tossed it onto the seat beside them, the movement also knocking his hat off.

"Wow," she whispered, her eyes running over the gleaming artwork prominently displayed on his chest.

He chuckled softly. "What?" he asked.

"It just… looks different up close," she answered.

He just grinned. "Come here," he said, motioning her back. Their lips joined again, sending waves of heat all throughout his body. He wanted her, badly. He started to pull his zipper down… but her hands suddenly landed on top of his, stopping him.

"I… think we're both getting a little too excited," she said quietly.

He let out an involuntary sigh, pulling his zipper back up. He would not be satisfied tonight.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking away. "Are you mad?"

"No, of course not," he assured her. "A little disappointed? Sure. Mad?" He shook his head. He forced a smile. "You… might want to get off my lap, though."

"Right. Sorry." She quickly shifted back into the passenger seat, handing him his shirt and hat. He put them both back on, swallowing hard and trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his lap. They drove in silence to the hotel where most of the roster was staying.

"I blew it, didn't I?" she asked quietly as he pulled into the parking lot.

"What?" He turned to her, frowning. "Because I didn't get laid on the first date? Please, AJ. Think a little more highly of me than that, will you?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "You just seem so… upset…"

"I'm trying to fight off my raging hard-on," he admitted bluntly. "That's really hard work for a guy who has protein shakes for breakfast."

"Oh," she said, blushing. "So-"

"And stop apologizing, okay? It's all right." He got out of the car and came around to the other side to open the door for her.

She couldn't help but smile. "I shoot you down and you're still a gentleman," she said, taking his hand and standing up.

"And I'll even get your bag for you," he added with a sly smile. He grabbed it from the back seat and took her hand as they walked into the hotel.

"So does this mean we're dating now?" she asked as they got into the elevator.

He looked at her. "I think so," he replied. "I'm not very good at this."

She squeezed his hand. "You're doing a great job so far," she assured him. She leaned against his chest until the elevator reached her floor. He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to her room. He found they were going as slowly as possible, practically stumbling over one another.

"Well, this is me," AJ said finally, turning to face him. "I'll see you Friday?" She didn't even realize how quietly she was speaking; she couldn't help it.

"Of course," Punk answered. "Why wouldn't you?"

She smiled brightly up at him. "Don't worry about it." She stood on her toes to plant a kiss. He started to kiss her back but she pulled away, still smiling. "Let's not get carried away again." She turned to the door to unlock her room, taking her bag from his shoulder and dropping it on the floor inside.

"So, Friday," he said, nodding.

She nodded back. "Friday it is." She kissed his cheek once more before retreating back into her room. "Bye, Punk." She closed the door behind her, waiting until she heard his footsteps retreat. She only let herself exhale when she was sure he was gone. Sighing, she slid down against the door, hugged her knees, and started to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

The next nearly two days without AJ were nerve-wracking for Punk. He spent his time working out and riding his bike around Chicago as he usually did, trying to get his mind off of her. _I can't possibly be this obsessed with her this early, _he thought. _Can I?_ Normally he would have bounced ideas off his best and oldest friend, Colt Cabana, but the independent wrestler was out of town for a booking in Japan. So Punk spent his time alone, trying to enjoy what little time he had to himself.

But he found himself becoming more and more restless. His knee bounced up and down incessantly on his flight to the next house show. He usually found that he was able to zone out on flights, listening to music or reading a comic. But not this time. He didn't just _want _to see her- he _needed _to see her.

_Holy shit. _The realization scared him. How could be so attached to her already? He remembered the last time that had happened, and it had been one of the most painful experiences of his life. He shook his head quickly, trying to clear his mind of such thoughts. No, he needed to treat this relationship like any other. And if it crashed and burned, well… He didn't even want to think about that possibility.

* * *

_Stupid, _AJ thought. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _

While Punk had spent their time apart deep in thought, AJ was just constantly scolding herself.

She felt terrible about cutting Punk off on Wednesday night. She had wanted so badly to go through with it, to give him what he wanted and needed, but she just couldn't bring herself to. Why not? He had let her behind the curtain a little to see the sweeter, more sensitive side of him that she was always sure existed somewhere inside him. He was kind and gentle with her, not at all pushy or demanding. He didn't put her down for her 'nerdy' or 'geeky' hobbies- he embraced them. So what was the problem?

She sighed, knowing it really ran deeper than that. But despite her reservations about him physically, she found that she still couldn't wait to see him. She was thankful her flight wasn't long; she was sure she wouldn't be able to sit still for an extended period of time.

As soon as her plane landed, she texted him. 'Are you here yet?' she asked.

'On the way to the arena,' he answered, almost instantly.

She breathed a sigh of relief; he would be there when she arrived. Good. She needed to see him.

* * *

The next few days passed in relative bliss, the new couple spending less time with their friends and more with each other. AJ even rode with him and Kofi on his bus. This slightly annoyed Kaitlyn at first, as it meant she had to ride with Alex and Zack, but she quickly forgave AJ and they all fell into a predictable, enjoyable pattern.

Although they slept in the same bed, Punk never pushed her to sleep with him. He knew she would appreciate that; but by Monday night, he was starting to get a little more restless about it. Especially because of what their segment would entail that night.

"I can't believe I'm going to propose to you," AJ said, laughing. "This is ridiculous. Funny we're actually dating now, isn't it?"

He nodded, not looking up from the wrist tape he was applying. He wasn't willing to admit that the segment made him feel more than a little uncomfortable. He didn't want to break her heart live on national television, even if it wasn't for real. What if it was too much for her, and she chose to break it off before it even really began? He didn't even want to think about it.

"You're pretty quiet tonight," she observed. "Is everything all right?"

"Huh?" Punk looked up as he bit off the end of the tape, previously having been lost in his own thoughts. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "You've been pretty… distant."

He shook his head, not wanting her to have the same worry he did. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm all right. Just a little tired."

"Okay, then," she said, crossing the room to kiss him. "Let's go!"

* * *

AJ was not expecting the rush of emotions she would feel when Daniel proposed to her.

She stood between the new man in her life and the old one, looking from one to the other hesitantly. Of course she had told him 'no' with absolutely no remorse at the beginning of the show, as planned- but now, at the end, after the successful tag match that had comprised of herself and Punk versus Daniel and Eve, he asked her again. She still had no intention of going back to him, nor did she believe he even wanted her to, but she had not been prepared for the amount of memories that had come crashing back to her when he took one knee.

Furious, she shook her head before approaching him. She had already slapped Punk, an action that had been almost physically painful; she didn't want to hurt him. But now she stared at Daniel, and brought her palm whizzing across his face. "YES!" she cried triumphantly, staring straight at him. She skipped straight to the back, where she immediately leaned back against the wall to take a deep breath.

"Oh, that was horrible," AJ muttered, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That was just horrible."

"What was horrible?" Kaitlyn asked, rushing to her aid.

"All of it," AJ answered. "The whole thing. Slapping Punk, being proposed to by Daniel. Ugh."

"Come on, it wasn't real," Kaitlyn reminded her. "Everything's okay. Look, here he comes." She stepped back as Punk rounded the corner, wiping sweat from his face with a small towel.

"Man, you really know how to deliver a sting," he teased, then frowned. "Hey, are you all right?" His heart immediately sank. This was it, his fears realized. She was devastated.

"I'm fine," AJ assured him, looking up. "I'm just a little… overwhelmed."

"Are you sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Then I think I know how I can cheer you up. Come on." He grabbed her hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he jerked her away from the wall, leading her through a series of hallways in the back of the arena.

"Somewhere private," he answered. "Hm. Here looks good." He opened a door behind her and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them both. It looked to be an empty maintenance room.

"What are we-"

Before she could finish her sentence he had her up against the wall, trapping her lips with his. The kiss took her breath away; she gasped for breath, but if felt like he had her lungs in a vice. Her cheeks quickly heated up.

"Oh," she whispered as he came up for air. "That's what we're doing."

"Mhm," he muttered against the skin of her neck. It was the sweetest spot on her whole body- so far.

"But- right… right here?" she asked nervously, shivering slightly with pleasure as his fingertips ghosted over her hips.

"Nobody comes back here," he whispered back. "Unless…" He pulled away from her neck, staring into her wide, glimmering eyes. "Unless you don't want to. I don't want to force you."

Her hands were clasped around the back of his neck, and her fingernails began to dig deeper. "No, I do," she said quietly. "I do." She had a deep, aching feeling for him. Somehow she just knew his touch would make the thoughts of Daniel disappear. They were already fading.

He grinned. "Good," he said. "I don't think you'll be needing these." He yanked the bottom half of her tights down. She gasped, not all accustomed to the cold air that now blew over her.

"You're not at all subtle," she squeaked as he hiked her up the wall until she was eye level with him.

"Should I be?" he muttered, wrapping her legs around his waist. "We've been dating for what, a few weeks already?"

"Six days," she corrected, sucking in a tight breath. She could feel the stiff outline of his erection pressing against her groin.

"Huh. Close enough." He bit into neck, just below her collarbone. She gasped; he'd barely touched her yet, and already she felt her skin burning. She held tightly around his shoulders, tilting her head so she could kiss him. She needed to experience his almost intoxicating taste again.

He couldn't believe that she had actually agreed to this; he supposed she wanted it as much as he did, wanted to make the stress of the night fade into passion instead. His heart was already speeding up, thudding against his chest. He was sure he could hear hers, skipping like a rabbit. His skin was heating up, beads of sweat rolling down his chest. He needed to be inside her, now. He struggled to pull his tights down, the spandex catching on his skin as it always did. He felt her legs tighten around his waist as he arched his hips back, preparing to thrust into her. She let out a tight, breathy gasp as he did- pain mixed with pleasure. But then he felt something that made him freeze.

"What?" she muttered, her head leaning on his shoulder as her fingernails dug into his back. "What's wrong? Why aren't you moving?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly.

"Tell you what?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him. She was biting her lip.

"That you're a virgin!"

"I didn't think it would matter," she whispered. She looked ashamed.

"Of course it matters!" He quickly pulled out of her, letting her down from the wall and pulling his tights back up. "You were going to let me take it against a wall, in a fucking closet, after a week of dating?"

"I… I'm sorry," she muttered, pulling her own tights back up.

"I… I have to… God damn it." He couldn't even think. He was disgusted with himself. Rubbing his forehead, he opened the door and walked out.


	7. Chapter 7

"Punk, wait!" AJ called, chasing after him out to the parking lot. _I should have told him, _she thought miserably. _I'm so fucking stupid._ She caught up to him just as he reached the door to his bus, and spun him around. "Please, talk to me. I'm sorry I'm… not more experienced."

"You think that's what this is about?" he snapped. "You really think that's what I care about? Of course not! Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think it wouldn't matter?"

"I wasn't sure," she muttered in reply, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've never done this before."

"Yeah, I could tell." He looked down for a moment, sighing. "Why didn't you tell me? Did you think I would be upset or something? Or that I wouldn't want you? Tell me."

"I was afraid," she answered quietly. "Most guys don't like virgins. They think they'll be whiny or clingy. I thought you would break up with me. Like…"

"Like Daniel," he finished, and she nodded, confirming his suspicions. "That's why he broke up with you? Because you're a virgin?"

"Well, sort of." She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "I… wouldn't have sex with him. I wasn't ready, and that made him angry, so I, well… let's just say I got really good with my hands and mouth. But after awhile, it wasn't enough for him."

"Just out of curiosity, why wouldn't you?" he asked.

"He was really pushy about it. All the time. Every night. It made me really uncomfortable with the idea."

"But you were with him for months," Punk reminded her. "After being with him for that long, you weren't comfortable sleeping with him, but after barely a week of being with me, you were ready?"

"I trust you," she admitted.

"You trust me," he echoed, smoothing back his hair. She nodded.

"Yeah, I trust you," she repeated, her voice gaining confidence. "I know it's what you want, and it's what I wanted, too. So why wouldn't you just do it?"

"Because that's not right!" he said, gesturing frantically. "Your first time should be… nicer. Softer. In a bed, for fuck's sake. Not rough and dirty up against a wall in a fucking arena! And definitely not with some scumbag like me."

"Some scumbag like you?" She bit her lip. "So does that mean you're breaking up with me?"

"No!" he replied quickly, his eyes widening with alarm. "No, of course not."

"Then why did you say that?" she asked, folding her arms.

He sighed. "I… don't think very highly of myself in the boyfriend department," he admitted. "That's not the point, okay? This just… changes things a little."

"Why?" she demanded, almost angrily. "Why does this have to change anything? Why can't you just pretend I'm not, and get it over with?"

"Because it shouldn't be something to just 'get over with'," he replied. "And I don't want you to fuck me just because you think it's what I want. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely do, but not at the expense of making you uncomfortable or forcing you into it. I meant what I said last week in the ring, you know. About being real with you and not just stringing you along to get what I want. That's not me. That's not what I do. I didn't ask you out so I could fuck you in a storage closet. If those were really my intentions, I would have made a move like that a long time ago." He stepped closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. "So don't think you have to fuck me to keep me. We'll do it when you're ready, all right? I can wait. I'm patient."

Goosebumps prickled up on her cheek beneath his hand. She looked up at him, bottom lip quivering, her warm eyes enough to make him drop to his knees. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

He nodded. "Positive," he said. "I'm not Daniel. We'll ease into this, okay?"

She nodded, too. "Okay," she said. "Okay." She moved into his arms, resting her head against his chest. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"It's all right," he assured her. "I understand."

She tilted her chin up to smile at him. "How come you're so understanding with me, anyway?" she asked. "What makes me so special, huh?"

"Because I lo-"he started, but abruptly halted his sentence. _Fuck,_ he thought, _did I really almost just say that? Shit. I need to get my fucking head together. _

"Huh?" she asked, confused. "What were you going to say?"

"Because I'm the best in the world," he answered, smiling. "And because I think we might just have something special here."

"Oh." She smiled sweetly. "I think we might have something special, too."

"What do you say we go lie down on the bus?" he suggested. "I don't know about you, but I'm kind of exhausted."

"I'd like that," she said, taking hold of his hand. Together, they walked out to his bus, where he unlocked it to let them both inside. Outwardly, he appeared relieved- but inside, he was cringing.

_I can't fucking believe I almost said that, _he thought, an involuntary shiver running down his spine. _Holy shit. It's been one fucking week, and I'm already thinking like this. That's what got me in trouble last time. God damn it, I never fucking think. Get a hold of yourself, damn it._


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few days, Punk spent his time steadfastly avoiding any sort of real talk AJ. He blamed it on a host of different things- "I don't want to talk in front of Kofi." "There are too many people here. "I'm really tired." "I have to sign these autographs for tonight." He couldn't let their conversations dip below the surface. He couldn't let them stray past things like comics, music, jokes, or wrestling. He just knew he couldn't, because if he did, he would slip. He would say something to her he knew he simply couldn't tell her yet. And holding it back was killing him.

He had to avoid most close physical contact, too. Late at night, when she curled against him in bed, he turned away from her embrace, unwilling to be close to her. He didn't want to stare into her eyes and be compelled to say exactly what was on his mind, with her nestled against his chest. So he rolled over, facing the wall instead of her.

"Did I do something wrong?" AJ asked quietly as he shrank away from her.

"Huh?" Punk muttered in reply, still not facing her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been really distant from me since Monday," she pointed out. "And you're not even looking at me now. I'm talking to you, Punk."

He rolled back over to face her. "Have I been distant?" he asked, trying to give her an innocently confused expression.

"Yes, you have," she replied flatly. "You barely talk to me or hug me or kiss me. What's the matter?"

"I think you're putting too much thought into this," he said. "I'm just… really tired. And busy. Come on. You know the drill."

"And what have you been doing lately that's made you more busy or tired than normal?" she pressed. "Nothing's been any different. Just the way you've been acting."

He sighed, sitting up; she wasn't going to let this go easily. "Do we really have to go into this now?" he asked. "I'm tired. It's been a long day. We both have early flights tomorrow."

"No," she snapped. "I want to know why you've been all but avoiding me. You won't talk or open up at all. That's not what relationships are supposed to be like." She paused. "You're not still stressing over… what we talked about on Monday, are you?"

"No, no," he assured her, shaking his head rapidly. "That's not it at all."

"But it _is _something, isn't it?" She reached out to touch his hand. "Why won't you just talk to me?"

"It's nothing," he said stiffly. "Now let it go."

She threw the blanket back angrily, getting out of bed. "Why are you being so cold to me?" she demanded. "You've never been like this before, even before we started dating. Now you're completely closed off. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" he growled. "Nothing is going on! Fucking drop it already!"

"This is bullshit," she muttered, turning to her suitcase. She unzipped it and pulled out her clothes, quickly getting dressed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice edging panic as she closed her bag.

"If I wanted to be with an asshole that ignored me, I would go back to Daniel," she answered, not looking back at him as she searched for her shoes. She found them by the door and slipped them on.

He sprang out of bed. "AJ, wait," he said, reaching for her arm. "We can talk about this."

She laughed incredulously. "Oh, _now _you want to talk to me?" She yanked her arm away, turning back to face him. "That's funny, because you've spent the last four days ignoring me."

"Come on, don't-" he began, but she cut him off by holding up her hand.

"Just save it, okay?" She picked up her bag. "I'll see you at Money in the Bank."

"Where are you going?" he asked, almost pleadingly. This couldn't be happening. She wasn't really leaving him because of his efforts to keep her, was she?

"I'm going to stay with Kaitlyn," she answered. "You clearly don't want to be around me right now, so I'll save you the trouble and stay out of your way."

"Please don't leave," he begged. "I'm sorry. I don't want-"

She just held up her hand again, shaking her head. "Don't." Biting her lip, she walked out of his room and didn't look back. She _couldn't _look back; if she did, she knew she would be tempted to go running back to him.

Punk couldn't only watch down the hallway as she left him, completely spurned by his attempts to control himself and not cling too closely too her. It had completely backfired, and now she thought he wasn't interested in her. He slammed the door shut behind him, fuming with anger at himself.

"God damn it," he growled. "God fucking damn it. Fuck! _Fuck_!" In his fury he overturned the table, sending the coffee maker and several glasses crashing to the floor. He knew he would likely have to pay for the damages, but he didn't care. He was furious at himself for being so stupid and careless.

* * *

As soon as she heard the door close, AJ burst into tears; she couldn't help it. She cried all the way to the elevator, down two floors to get to Kaitlyn's room. She knocked rapidly on her best friend's door, not stopping until it opened.

"What's the matter?" Kaitlyn muttered, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was slightly ruffled. "It's almost 2 in the morning. I hope it's important."

"I… I…" AJ couldn't even speak. Fresh tears spurted from her eyes.

Kaitlyn hadn't noticed before how upset she was; her face became grave. "AJ, what happened?"

"I think we… I think we just broke up," she sobbed in reply, collapsing against her friend.

"Oh, AJ… I'm so sorry… Come here…" Kaitlyn rubbed her back.

"Who's there?" came a muffled male voice from inside the room.

AJ frowned, pulling back. "Who the hell is that?" she asked.

"Well…" Kaitlyn replied sheepishly, pushing the door back. AJ peered inside, seeing none other than Zack Ryder wrapped in a sheet on the bed.

"_What_?" AJ cried. "Oh my God. I… I when did this happen? How long has this been going on?"

"Well, when you're attached to your boyfriend 24/7, you miss a few things," Kaitlyn answered. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you would be coming."

"I can… sleep on the chair," Zack suggested, smoothing back his hair awkwardly.

AJ just stared at them both, slack-jawed. "I… think I'll go get my own room," she muttered, stepping back. "Thanks, though."

"Do I have to kick his ass?" Zack asked.

"I… I don't know." AJ shook her head. "I'm sorry for waking you guys up. I'll catch up with you tomorrow. She hurried out of the room, back to the elevator to go down to the lobby. Aside from being numb and heartbroken, she was now shocked and completely alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Punk was completely numb for the next few days, and was largely surly and unresponsive to his friends. By Saturday when they arrived at the hotel for Money in the Bank, Kofi was fed up with his travel partner's attitude, and wanted answers.

"All right," Kofi said flatly, sitting down in front of Punk. "You've been pretty intolerable by everyone since Thursday. Now, call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure it has just a little something to do with why AJ isn't riding with us anymore. So tell me, what's going on with you? And I swear, if you tell me 'nothing' one more time, I'm going to hide your belt from you."

"Touch my title, and I'll-" Punk began automatically.

"Idle threats won't work, either," Kofi interjected. "So just man up and spill, all right?"

Punk sighed. As usual, there was no escaping it. "She dumped me," he muttered, not looking up.

"Okay…" Kofi waved his hand, urging him to continue. "That's not all of it. Why?"

"Why what?" Punk asked.

Kofi smacked his forehead. "Seriously, man? Why did she break up with you?"

"Because… fuck. I really don't want to go into it. Look, it's not a big deal. It's over and she hates me."

"Over?" Kofi snapped, standing up. "Fuck that! She made your ego tolerable! No way is it over! Come on. Tell me what happened. Right now."

"No," Punk grumbled. "It's stupid. Forget about it."

"I'm not letting you off this bus until you tell me, so you might as well just get it over with now."

"God damn it!" Punk stood up angrily and turned around, massaging his temples in an attempt to ease his stress. "All right, look. I'd been sort of… ignoring her since Monday. Really… distant."

Kofi waved his hand again. "Uh-huh," he said. "Why?"

"Please don't make me say it," Punk begged, turning back to look at him, dismayed.

"If you don't, I'll get Riley and Zack in here and-"

"I thought you said idle threats won't work," Punk interrupted.

"On _your _end," Kofi corrected. "I, on the other hand, am free to use them whenever I'd like. Just tell me already. It can't be _that _bad."

"You suck," Punk growled. "It's worse than you think. And now that I'm trying to figure out how to say it, it sounds really stupid. So you're going to make fun of me."

"I won't! Just fucking tell me already!"

"I didn't want to be too close to her in case I said something really stupid," Punk explained in a rush of words, before he could stop himself.

"Like what?" Kofi asked. "Like you love her or something?" He chuckled at the thought, but his jaw dropped when he saw that Punk wasn't laughing. "You _love _her? Seriously? Already? After what, two weeks? Holy shit! Punker's in love!"

"Shut the fuck up," Punk snapped.

"But you are!" Kofi insisted. "Fuck, that's great! Why would you be so afraid of accidentally telling her?"

"Because telling a girl I loved her that fast fucked up my last good thing," Punk answered. "I didn't want to ruin what we had the same way."

"Every relationship is different," Kofi pointed out. "Just because things went south with Amy doesn't mean it would go the same way with AJ."

"I didn't want to take that chance," Punk admitted.

"You've got to tell her!"

Punk shook his head. "There's no point. It's too late."

"It's never too late," Kofi said. "Go tell her. Everyone should be checking in around now."

A renewed sense of hope entered him. Nodding, Punk exited the bus and took off toward the hotel. He saw several familiar faces milling around near the desk- the ever-energetic Alex Riley, Zack Ryder with his arm draped around Kaitlyn's shoulder, and the petite young AJ.

"Nice of you to show your face at all this week!" Alex called from the group, waving him over. "Come to rejoin the living?"

Punk walked over to them. "I need to talk to AJ," he said.

Kaitlyn shot a glare at him. "I don't think she has anything to say to you," she said curtly. Punk could only guess that AJ had told her best friend of their conversation, in extreme detail.

"No, it's fine," AJ assured her, turning around to face him. "What do you want?"

"Can we talk over here?" Punk asked, nodding his head to the other side of the room. She nodded and followed him, and he started to fumble with his hands awkwardly. "So, um, I was thinking about the other night, and I wanted to tell you why-"

"Hey, I got us the room," a voice interrupted. Punk whirled around to find Daniel standing behind him, holding up a keycard.

AJ smiled thinly at him. "Thanks," she said.

An angry expression came over Daniel's face. "What is _he _doing here?" he snarled.

"He said he needed to talk to me about something," AJ explained. She looked back at Punk, who appeared crestfallen. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," Punk muttered, turning around. "Nothing at all. I'll, um, see you tomorrow night." He stalked out of the hotel, back to his bus. He nearly ran directly into Kofi, who had just opened the door and gotten off of the bus.

"So?" his friend asked excitedly. "How did it go?"

"She's back with Daniel," he answered dejectedly. He boarded the bus and closed the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Hey guys! Sooo sorry for the delay in updates, I haven't had internet in awhile. So I'm posting the next 2 chapters at once. Enjoy!**

"What the hell was that about?" Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows.

AJ shrugged. "I don't know," she muttered in reply, looking wistfully in Punk's direction as he stalked off. "I guess it didn't matter that much. Why don't we just go?"

Daniel nodded. "Okay," he said. He draped an arm around her shoulder as they walked to the elevators. "You know, I'm really glad you changed your mind."

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. "Me, too," she replied automatically, but there was no emotion in her voice.

A devilish grin came over his face. "So what do you say tonight we-"

"Oh, not tonight," she cut him off.

His expression dropped to one of anger. "You're not backing out again, are you?" he hissed.

"Oh, no, no," she assured him. "I was just thinking because, you know, tomorrow's a really big day, so… we should get a good night's sleep." She forced a smile. "We can celebrate after."

"I think I'll have plenty of energy to wrestle," he said. "I think we should do it tonight."

"If you think that's best," she replied quietly, looking down.

He smiled. "I do." He kissed her. She tried to kiss him back, but his lips felt completely alien to her. She didn't feel the familiar cool, metallic ring rubbing against the corner of her mouth. She separated from him awkwardly a moment later as they stepped into the elevator.

_What am I doing? _she thought miserably. _I miss him._

* * *

"I still feel bad about Thursday night," Zack said sadly, looking at Kaitlyn. "We should've gone after her. She needed you and you weren't there because of me."

"Don't feel bad," Kaitlyn said, squeezing his hand. "It's not your fault. Besides, I think she really needed to be alone, anyway."

"But you might have been able to talk her out of getting back with Bryan," Alex pointed out. "That was a bad move. The guy's been a complete douche lately."

"I don't think anything I could have said would have changed her mind," Kaitlyn admitted. "I think she's just trying to make Punk jealous."

"Well, I think it's working," Zack said. "Did you see the way he stormed out?"

"Who cares?" Kaitlyn snapped. "He was a complete asshole to her. "

""Come on, you know how he is," Alex reminded her. "He didn't do it on purpose."

"That still doesn't make it okay!" Kaitlyn growled.

"Eh." Alex waved her off. "Don't we have an autograph thing to get to?"

* * *

Punk didn't speak to anyone for the rest of the day, as well as most of the day Sunday. He was hurt. He was heartbroken. He was furious. He was a thousand different emotions at once. He didn't even know how to process what was going on. How could she leave him and run back to Daniel, only days later? The pushy, overly egotistical, controlling Daniel? Was she trying to make him jealous, or did she truly want to be with Daniel again?

Whatever the reason, it left him completely empty inside. He avoided absolutely everyone at the arena, keeping to himself atop a production crate backstage. He didn't look at anyone who passed him, his head bent over a graphic novel. The book shielded his view of everything in front of him.

Midway through the day, he felt someone tapping on one of his boots. "Busy," he muttered tightly, not looking over the cover.

"Please?" AJ asked quietly, her voice wavering. "It's important."

Punk felt his chest seize up at the sound of her voice. He didn't want to answer her, but he knew he couldn't just ignore her. He lowered his book slowly, closing it and putting it in his lap. He frowned as his eyes landed on her; something didn't look right. Her skin was too pale. Her head was ducked too low. Her eyes looked too glassy. She looked too tired. "Yeah?" he forced himself to say. "What's up?"

"I need to talk to you," she said. "Can we go somewhere… not here?" Her eyes darted around furtively.

"I guess." The tension in the air between them hung thick. He hopped off the crate, grabbing his book. She followed him through the backstage hallways wordlessly, trailing on his heels as he led her to the parking lot. He unlocked his bus and let them both inside, closing the door behind him. "All right, we're alone. So what's this about?"

"I think I made a big mistake," she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. "I don't want to be with him, Punk. I want to be with you."

His eyes softened, his arms-which had been folded-dropping to his sides. "Really?" he asked.

"I'm… I'm sorry I stormed out a few days ago," she continued. "Look, whatever was making you act that way, we can talk about it. We can work on it. I don't care what it was."

"Well, here's the thing," he said, scratching the back of his head in an attempt to distract himself. "I was going to tell you yesterday morning, but seeing you with Daniel sort of blindsided me."

"Tell me now," she urged. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

He laughed awkwardly. "Damn, I worked up the nerve the other day but now I've kind of lost it."

"You can tell me anything," she said, biting her lip.

"Well, the thing is…" He sighed. "Fuck it, I'll just say it. I think I'm falling in love with you. I know words like that sound stupid coming out of my mouth, but it's true. I didn't want to fuck up what we had by saying something that might scare you away, so I turned myself off. It came off really badly and I ended up pushing you away. I'm sorry."

"You… love me?" she whispered, looking up at him. Her bottom lip began to quiver.

He nodded. "Stupid, isn't it? The door's over there if you want to run because your kind-of-sort-of boyfriend of two weeks dropped the L-word."

"No," she said, stepping closer to him. "I don't want to run. I… think I'm falling in love with you, too."

He laughed again. "Are you really? Wow. What are the odds, huh?"

"I'm so sorry I left." She threw her arms around his neck.

"It's okay," he muttered, rubbing her back. "Everything's okay now."


	11. Chapter 11

AJ kissed him impulsively, clinging to him. As always when her lips met his, he felt like time had slowed down. Like his blood had been replaced with electricity.

"I need you," Punk whispered around her lips, hoisting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clearly as eager as he was. Holding onto her thighs he carried her through the cabin of the bus, to the back room. He threw her on the bed and fell back next to her, sitting up to unlace his boots. He started to fumble with the laces, but she scrambled up and untied them with a speed he previously thought not possible. She kicked off her sneakers and lay back, pulling him with her.

Her heart was pounding as he crawled on top of her. She shivered as he started kissing her neck, his beard scraping roughly against her tender skin. She felt his hands running down her sides, thumbing at the hem of her shirt. He yanked it over her head, tossing it aside and clambering at the clasp of her bra. She arched her back to help him, giving him the space he needed to unhook it and pull it off, throwing it into the growing pile of clothing beside the bed. She yelped in pain as his mouth closed around one of her breasts, but the feeling was quickly replaced by bliss.

He stopped, lifting his head to look at her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded quickly. "Just a little sore," she answered. "Keep going."

He grinned and lowered his head, his attack relentless as his hand came up to fondle her other breast. His other hand deftly unbuckled her belt and started working on the button to her shorts. But as he slid them down her legs, a crushing realization hit her. She'd been so caught up in passion with Punk, she'd nearly forgotten… and remembering made her heart freeze.

"Wait," she whispered as he fought with the spandex of his tights, yanking them off. "There's something I need to tell you."

"It can wait," he murmured against the skin of her stomach. He grinned. "You know, I don't have any vices, but I think I might be a little addicted to the way you feel." It was even more than that- the feathery sound of her voice, her intoxicating taste, the whispery touch of her fingertips, the contagious laughter that bubbled from her lips. He was addicted to every part of her.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he had captured the skin over her hip bone between his teeth. She let out a gasp, and before she could say another word, she was already lost in him again. He had taken over her effortlessly, and nothing she could do could shake him.

She shuddered beneath him as he kissed a line up her body, from her mid-thigh all the way back up her neck. He was throbbing against her leg and absolutely desperate for her. "Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on him through half-lidded eyes. The squeak that came out of her mouth was almost a plea from him to keep going.

"I'll be nice," he promised as he braced himself over her. He didn't want to tear her apart on her first time. He pushed inside her gently, intent on starting off slow. But as he began to move back and forth, he was confused. He hadn't felt the extra layer of skin break, as he'd been expecting. It wasn't there.

And then it dawned on him.

"AJ…" he said slowly, lifting himself up to look at her.

She knew exactly what he was going to ask her. "I told you I had something to tell you," she whispered, ducking her head shamefully.

A sudden, overwhelming rage filled him. "Then I guess you won't mind if I go a little harder," he growled, ramming into her roughly. She gasped, throwing her head back against the pillow. She wasn't in pain, but she hadn't been prepared for such force.

He held onto her shoulders, digging his nails into her skin as he bucked wildly against her. His hips crashed onto hers, and he kept going even as he felt her closing around him. She was gripping his arms tightly, moaning as she writhed beneath him. But he wasn't done yet. He thrust in and out of her, his grip on her shoulders tightening as he felt himself reaching the end. With a groan he pulled out, spilling hot across her stomach before rolling over onto his back. They were both silent for a moment, panting as they tried to get their wind back.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked finally, turning his head to face her. She shook her head. "Good." He stood up, grabbing a towel from the bedside table and tossing it at her. "Clean yourself up and get out."

She sat up, clutching the towel. "But we just-"

"I know," he muttered, pulling up his tights. "Look, I can't right now, okay? I can't do this right now."

She nodded, standing up to wipe her stomach off. As much as it hurt, she understood. He felt betrayed; another man-one he'd been at odds with for weeks, no less-had touched her first, a privilege he'd thought would be reserved for him. She tried not to look at him as she got dressed.

"So where does this leave us?" she asked, standing in the doorway uncertainly.

He was sitting on the bed, putting his boots on. "I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Do you still love me?"

He sighed. "Of course I do," he answered. "But I need time to think, all right?"

She nodded again. He walked her to the front of the bus, then sat down on the couch with his head in his hands. He smoothed back his hair several times, trying to clear his head.

"Hey, Punk?" she called quietly from the door. "For what it's worth… I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "So am I."


	12. Chapter 12

Punk lay back on the couch as AJ scurried out of his bus. He almost couldn't believe what had just happened. He almost couldn't believe it was real. But what he found hardest to believe was how desperately he had wanted it to be him. He could barely comprehend how badly he'd wanted to be the first man-the only man-to make a breathless moan escape from her lips. He'd wanted to be the first and only man to see her in such a state, whose shoulders she dug her nails into and begged for more.

But he wasn't, and now he would never be. Just imagining Daniel throwing her on his bed and tearing at her clothes made him feel sick. It made him feel furious. And not just at AJ- at himself, too, for letting her go. Had he not been such a fool and treated her so coldly, she never would have left him in the first place, and never would have fallen back into Daniel's outstretched arms. Could he really blame her for seeking comfort in someone else, after the way he'd been to her? He wasn't sure it even mattered. He didn't know if he could face her anymore, knowing what she'd done, and knowing that it had been largely his fault.

Fuming at himself and the rest of the world, he stood with curled fists. "God damn it!" he shouted, flinging the nearest item on the counter- a toaster. He proceeded to throw what few pieces of furniture that weren't bolted down, yelling and cursing as he did so.

At some point, his howls of rage attracted attention from a passerby in the parking lot. Alex threw open the door to his bus, boarding it in shock. "Whoa, Punk!" he cried, holding up his hands. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Punk didn't answer, turning away from Alex to go to his room. Once there, he started pulling the mattress off his bed.

"Punk, stop!" Alex snapped, running after him and grabbing one of his heavily tattooed arms. "You're destroying your bus. What the fuck happened?"

Punk whirled around to face his friend, shaking his arm free. "None of your business," he growled.

"Come on, man," Alex begged. "You're going all psycho-viper on me. Tell me what happened."

"Just some ridiculous bullshit that will never happen again," Punk answered curtly. He turned to his closet, where his most prized possession lay folded in his bag. He slung the title over his shoulder and grabbed his roll of tape. "I have a match in a few hours that I have to get ready for. I'll see you later." He walked out, waiting patiently at the door for Alex to follow. The younger, spiky-haired wrestler eventually did, sighing heavily as he surveyed the damage he passed.

"Don't shut everyone out again," Alex said simply, in a rare moment of compassion and sincerity. He too remembered how intolerably depressed and angry Punk had become after his last break-up.

Punk just shook his head as he shut the door behind him. He stalked across the parking lot and into the building, leaving Alex to wonder just what happened that had gotten the champion so upset.

* * *

AJ was hiding behind a vending machine, trying to keep her tears from soaking her low-cut referee shirt. She'd been sobbing uncontrollably for the past hour. How could she referee a match between her ex-boyfriend and her new boyfriend (if she and Punk were even still together; she had no idea) in such a state? She couldn't even stand up without sprouting fresh tears.

_It's hopeless, _she thought miserably. _I can't do this. I have to get out of here. _But she knew running wasn't an option, and her line of work didn't exactly allow impromptu sick days. No, she had to get a hold of herself somehow. She just had to make it through the match, and then she would be able to curl up in her hotel room for the rest of the night. Swallowing hard she stood, wiping her cheeks with a wadded up paper towel. She made her way right to the curtain, where she waited for her cue.

* * *

Punk took all of his anger out on Daniel during their match. He smashed him into ring posts. He spiked him to the mat. He chopped him viciously. His punches and kicks were violently real. All the while he steadfastly avoided eye contact with referee AJ, whose presence he felt around him at all times.

A third of the way through the match, Punk backed into the ropes for the planned spot that would take AJ out of the equation for awhile. When his elbow bounced against her he felt his skin freeze over, and lost his focus just long enough for Daniel to take back control of the match.

Heart pounding, Punk tackled his opponent and lost himself in rage again. He wanted Daniel to feel pain. He wanted Daniel to feel every bit of anger and frustration that was running through Punk's veins. He wanted Daniel to wake up with bruises, knowing Punk had left his mark.

At some point-he couldn't tell how much time had passed-Punk felt the mat shake slightly. He glanced back, seeing that AJ had dove under the ropes and was back to continue refereeing the match. _No, _he thought. _Don't look at her. Keep going._

Daniel was matching his intensity, blow for blow. After assaulting him with a kendo stick, Punk lifted him into the fireman's carry. He hit the GTS flawlessly, sending Daniel down to the mat. Punk dropped to pin him, pulling his leg back hard, but-predictably-the 'yes' man kicked out. At first, Punk didn't even realize the three count hadn't been made. He whirled around to face AJ, a pleading expression on his face.

Her eyes were filled with regret as she stared back at him, shaking her head sadly.

Exasperated, Punk dragged his sore body out of the ring to retrieve the table on the ground. He slid it under the ropes and set it up in the middle of the ring, all while AJ watched with frightened eyes. Punk yanked Daniel to a standing position and threw his limp body onto the table, hitting him in the chest several times before stumbling over to the ropes. He climbed to the top rope, standing to prepare for his tribute to Randy Savage's elbow drop, but just as he steadied himself, Daniel scrambled up and began hitting him with a flurry of punches.

Punk barely managed to slip away, dodging a particularly vicious right hook. He left Daniel stunned on the ring post to regain his balance and hopped back up, elbowing Daniel several times. He got a grip around his weary opponent, took a deep breath… and sent them both crashing back into the table.

AJ let out an involuntary cry as both men fell. She ran to the wreckage, where both them were sprawled out amongst the splinters. She dropped to the mat as she saw Punk grab Daniel's leg, pulling it back in one last desperate attempt for a pin.

The bell ringing was music to Punk's ears. He rolled off the decimated Daniel and leaned back against the table, breathing heavily as Cult of Personality blasted through the arena. He took a moment to get his breath back before fighting to get to his feet, turning to see AJ standing before him. She held the belt to him and he snatched it away, paying her no mind as he climbed to the middle rope to celebrate with the crowd. AJ could only stand back and watch as he rolled under the ropes and limped away. Daniel lay motionless at her feet.

Punk didn't look back as he made his way up the ramp. He couldn't. Because he knew if he did… his entire world would come crashing down around him.


	13. Chapter 13

AJ chased Punk down backstage as soon as she cleared the curtain. "Punk, wait!" she called, catching up to him as he turned the corner.

"Leave me alone," Punk muttered, not turning to look at her as he stalked down the hallway.

"Please," she begged. "You're bleeding." She touched his back, just above where the splintered bits of the broken table had pierced his skin.

"No," he snapped, jerking away from her.

"But-" she started, drawing her hand back slowly.

"_I can't fucking talk to you right now_!" he yelled, whirling around to face her. He was dripping with sweat and still breathing heavily, his wild eyes now wide and locked on her.

"I…" she whispered. "I'm sorry..." Her eyes watered as she began to back away, her lower lip trembling. Tears began pouring down her cheeks as she finally turned and ran from him, pushing past several trainers. She kept running, not even sure where she was headed, until she felt someone seize her firmly by the shoulders.

"What happened, baby?" Daniel whispered, pulling her into his sweaty embrace. "What did that jerk say to you?"

AJ didn't answer. She could only continue to sob against his shoulder, her shivering hands slowly coming up around his neck.

"What did I tell you?" Daniel continued, his voice soft and soothing as he stroked her hair gently. "He can't take care of you like I can, AJ. Only I can take care of you."

* * *

"He's such an asshole," Kaitlyn spat as Punk tore past her, barreling into the locker room.

"Hey, hey, lay off," Zack said easily. "He's one of my best friends."

"And he treats _my _best friend like garbage!" she snapped. "Why should I have to treat him any better?"

He sighed. "Well, to be fair, she-"

"So? They broke up because he was being a jerk! She was perfectly within her rights to do whatever the hell she wanted to do."

"You're actually championing for Daniel?" he asked with a frown.

"Shit, I don't know," she muttered, looking down. "I don't even know who I hate more at this point."

"At least it's not me," Zack said hopefully, with a sheepish grin. "You don't hate me, right?"

She smiled. "Of course not," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You're not an asshole."

"Well, I-"

The door next to them flew open. "Where's Kofi?" Punk demanded. His white T-shirt was sticking to his back, the blood beneath it smeared and clearly visible.

"Don't know," Kaitlyn said stiffly, shooting him a cold glare.

"Uh, I'm not sure," Zack admitted. "I think he hit the showers a few minutes ago."

"Well, he's not answering his phone, so if you see let him know I'm getting the fuck out of here in ten minutes whether he's on my bus or not." He turned from them and began to walk away.

"Asshole," Kaitlyn muttered under her breath.

Punk stiffened, turning back to face her. "What was that?" he hissed.

"I said you're an asshole," she repeated proudly, straightening up.

Punk looked directly at Zack. "Your girlfriend's a bitch," he snapped, and stormed off before anyone could say another word. He went straight to his bus and didn't look back. Not two minutes later, he received a text message from Kofi: 'Don't wait for me. I'll ride with Zack.'

_Fine, _he thought, tossing his phone on the couch and stripping off his shirt. He grimaced as the fabric rubbed against his back. _I don't need you fuckers. I don't need anyone._

* * *

AJ spent the night curled in Daniel's arms. He didn't push her to have sex, which she was thankful for. He just held her all night, telling her the same thing over and over again. He whispered into her ear that no one else would be able to nurture her emotions and give her what she needed but him. He told her how awful for her CM Punk was, that he was just a manipulative bastard who only wanted her for her body.

With each statement she just nodded, clinging to him more tightly as she cried against him. _Daniel loves me, _she thought. _Punk hates me because of what I did. But Daniel forgives me. Daniel wants me. Daniel will take care of me. Daniel loves me._

* * *

Punk didn't sleep that night. After showering at the hotel he spent nearly three hours at the gym, pushing himself to the absolute limit. He did push-ups and sit-ups until his muscles burned; he ran on the treadmill until he nearly collapsed. Then he showered again and lay awake in bed, utterly unable to rest. Each time he closed his eyes he saw AJ's face, and it enraged him.

In the morning, he rode to the next city alone. His bus had never felt so empty; he normally had at least Kofi with him, if not Alex and Zack as well. But this Monday it was only him and the driver, and neither of them said a word as they pulled into the parking lot for RAW. He disembarked and headed into the arena, which was still largely devoid of wrestlers as it was fairly early in the day. He changed into his tights quickly and took up residence on an empty production crate. The last thing he needed right now was to be accosted by other members of the roster, so he kept clear of the locker room.

Eventually, they began arriving in droves. He sucked in a tight breath as Daniel and AJ passed him by, hands linked as they walked. So she'd gone running back to him again, just as he expected.

_That's fine, _he thought miserably. _That's just fucking fine. I don't need her. I don't need her._


	14. Chapter 14

AJ was getting used to sleepless nights.

When she arrived at the arena with Daniel, it took every ounce of self-control she had not to run right to Punk. She kept her head low and bit her lip as they passed him, not saying a word as they walked deeper into the arena.

"I know that was hard for you," Daniel told her as soon as they were out of earshot. "But I'm proud of you." His hands were braced on her shoulders. "Remember what I told you?"

"Only you can take care of me," she repeated automatically.

He smiled, stroking her cheek gently. "That's my girl. I'll see you later." He kissed her before entering the men's locker room, leaving her to duck into the women's locker room right across from it. She took up residence in front of a mirror and started applying some sparse make-up, mostly to cover up the dark circles that had formed beneath her eyes.

"Well, that didn't take long," a voice hissed.

AJ jumped at the sound, stepping back from the mirror. She quickly turned, seeing Beth Phoenix standing at her side. She bore a familiar smug expression. "What… what do you mean?" AJ asked nervously, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, just that it didn't take long for Punk to get bored of you," Beth replied proudly. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep him for longer than a few weeks. I guess I was right."

AJ's cheeks flushed with heat. "And what, you think he's going to come running back to you now?" she shot back.

Beth's eyebrows narrowed in anger but she didn't miss a beat. "He might. I know he doesn't appreciate clingy virgins." She shoved past the younger, smaller diva, leaving the room.

AJ shook her head. Beth was wrong, wasn't she? But if she was, then why wasn't AJ sitting next to Punk right now, instead of trying to hide the evidence of sleepless nights? She shook her head again, trying to prevent tears from forming. She had a match to compete in later, and she couldn't afford to lose focus.

* * *

Punk sat close to the monitors as Daniel and AJ's match came to a finish. He hadn't wanted to watch, but he found that he was inexplicably drawn to watching her wrestle. She was good; better than most people gave her credit for. But as the bell rang and Eve and the Miz left the ring in defeat, something he never expected happened; for the third time, Daniel dropped to one knee before her. And this time, he had a small velvet box in his hands.

"_AJ, will you marry me?"_

He was sure his heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening as they fixed on the screen. As both Daniel and AJ raised their arms in triumph (AJ's ring finger now sporting a sizeable diamond), Punk rose and turned away. He couldn't watch anymore. Deep down he knew it was his own damn fault that she had slipped through his fingers, but it didn't matter. She was lost to him now.

* * *

AJ felt her grip on reality slowly slipping away. She knew from the look of sincerity on Daniel's face that this proposal was not for entertainment purposes alone, that the diamond now shining from her ring finger was terrifyingly authentic.

"That was real, wasn't it?" she asked Daniel as soon they got backstage.

"You're damn right it was real!" he answered happily, kissing her on the cheek. "And we're getting married next week, live on the 1000th RAW! I cleared it with the board and everything. Isn't that great?"

Her eyes widened with shock. "Next week?" she squeaked out. "But that's so soon! And none of my family will be there! And…" She looked down. "How did you even know I would say yes?"

He just grinned. "I knew," he said. "I always knew. I have to go change so I'll see you later, okay?" He kissed her forehead and took off, leaving her standing near catering, confused and alone.

"No way," Kaitlyn said as she approached. "No fucking way. That wasn't for real, right?"

"He said it was," AJ muttered, looking down.

"And you're going through with it?" Kaitlyn cried incredulously. "You… you can't marry him! Are you insane? You have to be, because there's no way-"

"He loves me," AJ cut in firmly. "I should be with a man who loves me."

"AJ," Kaitlyn said, dismayed. "I don't think-"

"Just leave me alone, okay?" AJ snapped. "It's my decision!" She turned her back on her best friend, storming off to the locker room. _I don't need her, _she thought as she grabbed her bag to change. _She just doesn't want me to be happy._

* * *

"You're mad," Kofi said, rounding the corner to find Punk leaning against the wall.

"Gee, how could you tell?" Punk growled in reply. Kofi had found him out near the loading dock, where Punk usually could be found when he needed to think or blow off steam.

"You have no right to be angry," Kofi pointed out. "It's your fault, you know. You pushed her away, and then you let her go."

"You think I don't already know that?" Punk snapped, whirling around. "I'm mad at _myself_, Kofi. I'm fucking furious at myself. I could have saved this, but I didn't. Do you have any goddamn idea how that makes me feel?"

Kofi just shook his head. "You've become pretty fucking pathetic lately, you know that?" he asked. "Where's the Punk I knew who would never, ever stand for this bullshit?" He turned and walked away, leaving Punk to be swallowed by his own demons.

Punk remained by the loading dock until it was no longer a place of solitude, when crew members filled the area to break down the set. Grumbling to himself, he returned to his bus, which was again empty but for his driver. He still wasn't used to being so alone while traveling, and he didn't like it. All of his friends were cross with him now, over all of this. And his bed felt so empty… the other pillow still smelled like her perfume.

_Fuck… I miss her, don't I?_


	15. Chapter 15

The week of wedding preparations flew by too fast for AJ to really accept what was happening. On Tuesday, they filmed a "wedding prep" segment that aired on Smackdown. On Wednesday, she was fitted for a dress that one of the WWE designers had picked out. On Thursday, Daniel dragged her along as he was fitted for his suit. By Friday, she was exhausted, both mentally and physically- and Daniel still hadn't let her tell her family.

"Don't worry about it," he told her again and again. "This isn't about them. It's about you and me."

Each time he said it she accepted it, accepting that Daniel knew best.

That night, as he often did, he left their hotel room to go to the gym. "Just stay here," he said. "I'll be back soon." He took the elevator to the first floor and went into the hotel's gym as promised, but once there, he didn't start running on the treadmill or using one of the machines. Instead he sat down on a weight bench, removed his phone from his pocket, and started dialing. He had a few calls to make.

* * *

"You're wrong, she was _totally _into me," Alex protested as they walked into the lobby of the hotel.

Zack just laughed. "I don't think so, bro," he said, shaking his head. "Remember the part where she got up and walked away? And didn't come back?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah? So?"

"That means she's not into you," Zack clarified helpfully.

Alex just waved him off. "Yeah, whatever," he groaned.

"Well, I'm going bed," Zack said, yawning and stretching. "I'm beat."

"Liar," Alex teased. "You're going to fuck your new girlfriend and _then _go to bed."

Zack nodded, completely serious. "That's what I meant, yeah," he said. "Are you hitting the gym?"

"Of course," Alex answered. "This doesn't happen overnight, you know. Later!"

Zack waved to his friend as he headed to the elevators, leaving Alex to turn the corner to the gym. He was about to enter when he spotted Daniel, sitting alone, speaking hurriedly on his phone. He frowned; what was so important and secretive that would make Daniel need to make a phone call in private?

Suspicious, Alex crept closer. As one of his sneakers squeaked on the tile floor, Daniel turned his head furtively. Alex quickly ducked behind a wall, holding his breath for a moment. When he looked back, Daniel was facing away from him again. Letting out a quick sigh of relief, Alex continued making his way over as silently as possible, until he was close enough to hear Daniel's side of the conversation.

"That's right," Daniel said, nodding. "I've already got the marriage license. So as soon as the 'I do's' are done, you can move in on her." He paused. "You'll probably need about four or five guys. She may only weigh about 100 pounds, but you have to remember that she's a trained professional wrestler. She'll put up quite a fight." Another pause. "Huh? Yeah, I got a white suit, just like you said. That way it will match your guys and she won't get suspicious if she sees them." He grinned. "Yes, I want it to happen in the ring, on TV. Don't worry; I'll be able to let you in. I'm a big deal on the roster. As long as you're with me, no one will ask any questions. Now, you're sure there will be no problems? Once I'm her legal next of kin, I'll be able to put her in and she won't be able to do anything about it? Okay. Great."

By now, Alex's face had completely drained of color. He didn't have to be able to hear the other side of the conversation; he knew exactly what Daniel was planning to do. He slowly began backing away from the gym, retreating quietly until he knew he would be out of earshot. Then he turned and ran, making a mad dash for the elevators. He had to tell AJ, before it was too late.

* * *

AJ was curled up in bed when she heard a loud banging on the door. "What?" she grumbled, reluctantly unrolling herself from her blankets and getting out of bed. "Did you forget your key again?" She looked through the peephole, just to make sure it was Daniel; it wasn't. She frowned at who she saw, opening the door slowly.

"Alex?" she asked. "What is it? Why are you so… freaked out?"

"I need to talk to you," he said hurriedly. He was sweating, as though he'd run all the way there. "It's really important."

"I… don't think that's such a good idea," AJ said uncertainly, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. "He doesn't like it when I talk to other guys."

"That's exactly what I need to talk to you about!" Alex exclaimed. "AJ, come on. Please. This is really, really important. This is the most important thing I've ever had to tell you."

She glanced around. "Make it quick," she said. She didn't want Daniel to happen upon them.

"I was going into the gym downstairs and I overheard him on the phone," he explained. "He was talking to someone about your wedding."

"So? He's been talking to lots of people about our wedding lately."

"No, you don't understand," Alex pressed. "This was different. He was telling someone that he's already got your marriage license, and as soon as everything's official, 'they' can go in and take you."

"'They'?" AJ asked incredulously. "Who are 'they', Alex?"

"I don't know, but he said they were wearing white," he answered. "He said he got a white suit to match so you wouldn't get suspicious if you saw them. He said they would need several guys, because you're stronger than you look." He paused, looking down; this was the hardest part. "Then he asked if there would be any problems 'putting you in', once he was your official legal next of kin. He confirmed that there wouldn't be."

AJ was biting her lip now, trying to keep tears from forming. "What are you trying to say?" she whispered, blinking hard to wipe the inevitable tears away.

Alex sighed. "I think he's trying to commit you to a mental hospital, AJ."

She froze, tears streaming freely down her cheeks now. "No," she muttered, shaking her head rapidly. "You're wrong. You're… you're lying. That's it, you're lying to me. You're trying to convince me not to marry him, aren't you?"

"No, that's not it at all!" Alex cried, shaking his head. "AJ, I swear. I'm telling you what I overheard."

"You're a liar!" she spat, shoving him away from the door. "You're just like Kaitlyn. You don't want me to happy, so you're trying to get me away from him. Just leave me alone, Alex!"

"AJ-" he protested, but she had already slammed the door on him. Sighing, Alex walked away from her room. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he called the only other person he could think of who might be able to help the lost little diva.


	16. Chapter 16

Over the next two days, Daniel was increasingly distant from AJ. He slipped away constantly to answer his phone or make calls, always speaking in a hushed voice as he rushed to get away from her. At first, AJ had been reluctant to believe Alex's plight. But as the weekend passed, Daniel's behavior was only serving to further support the young wrestler's theory.

_No, _she thought. _There's no way. There's no possible way. Alex is wrong._

But the possibility of Alex being completely right was ever creeping into her mind.

On Sunday night, Daniel insisted on them having separate hotel rooms. "That's what engaged couples do the night before their wedding," he told her as he got his own room key from the desk in the lobby. "I want to do this right. Don't you, baby?"

"Of course," she whispered back. But as she lay awake in a bed that was far too big for one person, she was terribly restless. She didn't like being alone, and she hated the uncertain feeling that was taking over her mind- not only about what Alex had told her, but about the entire wedding. She knew, somewhere, deep in her heart, that eternity with the angry 'yes man' was not what she wanted. Every time she thought about it, about the possibility that Daniel didn't really love her, the image of a taller, heavily-tattooed man flashed before her eyes.

Before she could stop herself, she was already reaching for her phone to send a text message. 'I know you don't want to see me,' she wrote, 'but I need to see you. Please. Just for a little while.'

A reply came almost instantly: 'Where is your room?'

Ten minutes later, there was a light knock on her door. She sprang out of bed to answer it, pulling the door open and stepping back. He was there. He really came. He really wanted to see her. "You can come in," she said, turning from the doorway to allow him inside. He nodded and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"I don't know how much help I'll be with your hair or make up," Punk said, his arms folded. He was barefooted, wearing his usual nighttime uniform of gym shorts. "That's not really my area of expertise."

She chuckled in spite of herself. Even under the worst of circumstances, he always knew how to make her laugh. "That's not why I asked you to come over," she said.

"Then what _is _the reason you asked me to come over?" he asked.

She looked down. "I…" she began, but she didn't even know what to say.

"You're not sure about this whole thing, are you?" he asked quietly. He reached out to touch her cheek; she shrank away from his touch.

"I don't need you to try to convince me," she replied gruffly. "I know what I want. I'm happy."

He just smiled. "If you're so happy, then why did you need to see me the night before your wedding to who you apparently believe is the greatest man on earth?" She didn't answer him; she couldn't. "I know what you want. I know what you need." He was stepping closer to her. "And I can give it to you." He reached out again, and this time she didn't recoil as his hand landed on her cheek. "Will you let me?" His voice was almost a plea.

AJ knew what he was asking. He wanted to show her what he was feeling. He was asking her to let him take care of her. She nodded, the silent pulse between them in the room growing louder and louder.

He gathered her into his arms, his hands resting on her lower back as he pressed his lips to hers. She almost melted right there, having missed his taste so desperately. He drew her down gently on the bed behind them, separating only to pull her shirt up over her head. She raised her arms to let him, bringing them back around his neck as soon her torso was bare. He kissed every part of her skin that he could reach, his tongue swirling around her nipples.

She moaned sharply, her back rising up off the bed for a moment; Daniel could never make her feel what Punk could. Her nails pressed into his back, raking upwards as he slid down her body. His teeth clamped down on the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down. She wiggled her legs, trying to rid her body of clothing as quickly as possible. She heard him let out a quiet chuckle as he took off his own shorts, rising back up to kiss her neck. She reached down between them, her hand closing around his growing erection, but to her surprise he lifted her hand off of him.

"This isn't about me," he whispered, the softness of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "This is about you." He parted her legs with his knee, his hips rising over hers as he entered her. She bit her lip and seized his shoulders, preparing for pain as she usually did, but the pain didn't come. Instead he rocked his hips back and forth slowly, his thrusts gentle as he moved in and out of her. Each movement spoke volumes of his love for her.

It didn't take long for her to find her release. She gasped his name breathlessly, her moans filling the otherwise silent room as her body tightened around him. He held out for only a moment longer, as though her climax was his permission to let go. He groaned heavily as he filled her, holding onto the headboard above them before lowering his body onto hers.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

She hadn't even realized that she was crying, her tears soaking his shoulder as she grasped him. She just shook her head, unable to answer him. So he held her tenderly as she sobbed, stroking her hair gently. She soon fell asleep tangled in his arms.

* * *

When AJ awoke early the next morning, she found her bed startlingly empty. She rubbed her eyes as she sat up, surveying the room. The air was warm and heavy with moisture, and there was a damp towel hanging over the back of the chair near the door. So he had showered before leaving her, and it hadn't been too long ago, either. She sighed, clutching the blanket to her chest. She was alone again. And she was getting married today.


	17. Chapter 17

AJ rode to the arena for the 1000th RAW alone. She had called and texted Punk several times on her way there, but he didn't answer any of them. On the fourth call, it went almost straight to voicemail; he was actively hanging up on her now. Sighing, she pocketed her phone and got out of her rental car, not knowing whether or not she would be driving it back tonight. She entered the arena through the back entrance, looking down at the floor as she wheeled her bag behind her. She was directed by a trainer to her own, personal locker room, which had been allotted to her to change into her wedding dress. It was in the room waiting for her.

She sighed as she looked at the dress, rolling the material back and forth between her fingertips. Last night had left her even more confused than before; if Punk wanted her back, as his actions had certainly led her to believe, then why wasn't he answering any of her calls or texts? Why hadn't he come to see her, to talk her out of going through the wedding?

Dismayed, she sat down on the floor with her legs crossed. Life wasn't going at all the way she'd planned. Head in her hands, she was about to burst into tears when someone knocked on the door. She sprang to her feet, renewed with hope. Surely it was Punk, there to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. She opened the door, raising her eyebrows in surprise as the very last person she'd expected smiled broadly at her.

"AJ, I need a minute of your time," said Vince MacMahon. "Can I come in?"

She nodded quickly, stepping back to allow him inside. She knew she was in no position to refuse her boss a moment of her time if he said he needed it. "What's… what's up?" she asked nervously, silently cursing herself. She never knew how to speak or act around Vince.

"Some information about your wedding was brought to my attention recently," he explained. "So I'm here to make a different proposal for you… one I'd like you to accept instead of Daniel Bryan's."

* * *

Punk had spent most of the day ignoring AJ's attempts at communication and seeking comfort in his own solitude. Once again, he was disgusted with himself- this time, for toying with AJ's very fragile mind and heart. He knew what he wanted- AJ. But now, he wasn't sure if she could even handle a relationship with him anymore, after being the victim of Daniel Bryan's cruel mind games. If she was a little confused before, she was completely broken now. How could he possibly begin to pick up the pieces?

He sighed, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ease his headache. He didn't need this today. In just a few short hours, he had another huge championship match with John Cena. His head needed to be in the ring, not in the clouds. But somehow, he knew he wouldn't be able to wrench his thoughts away from AJ's plight.

He thought briefly of going to talk to her, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. If the plan he set in motion didn't work, then nothing he could possibly say would be able to change AJ's mind. It was all up to her now.

* * *

He couldn't help himself. After trying his best to stay away, Punk ended up glued to the monitors with the rest of the roster as AJ and Daniel Bryan's wedding ceremony unfolded.

_She looks beautiful in a wedding dress, _he thought, before he could stop himself.

With each word that was spoken, he felt the vise around his heart clamping tighter and tighter. Daniel's speech made his skin crawl. The crowd howled his own disapproval at them; he wished that he, too, could join in their cries. But all he could do was sit back helplessly, watching AJ's bright, hopeful eyes dazzle in the lights.

"And do you, AJ-"Reverend Slick began, but AJ was already ahead of him.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried into the mic.

Punk's heart sank. He turned away from the screen, unable to watch anymore. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder; turning his head, he saw it belonged to Kofi. He felt extremely grateful in that moment that his friend was still willing to comfort him.

"Well, I guess that says it all!" Slick announced. "By the power vested in me by the state of-"

"Wait!" AJ interrupted again. "I wasn't saying yes to Daniel. I was saying yes to someone else."

Punk froze for a moment, hearing her words. He turned back to the screen, a cautious smile creeping across his face.

"Another man," AJ continued. "Another man who made a proposal to me earlier tonight."

As Vince's music blared through the arena, Punk's smile turned into a full grin. _It worked, _he thought. _It worked. I can't fucking believe it worked. _He looked at Kofi as Vince exited the stage. "I have to get out there," he said, and ran off.

* * *

AJ spent the majority of the rest of the show sobbing in her dressing room, still clad in her wedding dress. Despite her acceptance of Vince's offer, it still left the facts remaining that she had almost completely fallen for Daniel's awful scheme. Had her boss not intervened, she would have been on her way to a mental institution right now… and it would have been her own fault, for being so stupid.

Shortly before the show ended, she managed to pull herself up off the floor and change out of her dress (which she left on the floor). She supposed she needed to thank Alex for his intervention, and she wanted to catch him before he headed off to the hotel. She would apologize to Kaitlyn, too, but that conversation would have to wait. Alex was the one who had helped her tonight. She searched for him backstage, finding him just outside the men's locker room.

"Hey," she greeted him quietly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Alex smiled. "Hey, _boss_," he said. "Great show out there! I saw the whole thing. It was awesome. Hey, since you have power now, you think I could be on TV more than twice a year?"

She managed a chuckle. "I just want to apologize for not believing you the other night," she explained. "And to thank you for what you did."

"No problem," he replied, but then he frowned. "What I did? What do you mean?"

"You know," she reminded him. "Telling Vince…"

"Telling Vince?" he echoed, shaking his head. "I don't even think Vince remembers my name anymore. I haven't talked to him in a long time."

"Oh," she whispered, a realization dawning on her. "Never mind, then. I'll, um, see you later." She hurried off, leaving Alex confused and pondering her statement.

* * *

Punk was still sweating and on a slight win high as he headed out to his bus. It wasn't every day that he got to both retain his belt and perform his finisher on The Rock, a man he once watched on at home. It was a surreal feeling, combined with being able to watch Daniel trash his wedding set in anger after AJ left him at the altar. Just the thought of it made him chuckle as he reached to open the door.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

He jumped back, seeing AJ in the doorway. "How the hell did you get in here?" he asked, taking a deep breath. "You scared the shit out of me." He ascended the stairs and shut the door behind him.

"I still have a key," she reminded him. "Don't change the subject. It was you."

He just shook his head, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you mean," he said casually.

"Alex told you what he heard, and you told Vince," she clarified. "You told Vince, and he offered me the job to not marry Daniel. You saved me."

"I didn't save you," he muttered.

"Did you or didn't you tell Vince?" she asked flatly, her hands on her hips.

"I did," he admitted.

"Then you saved me." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed back fiercely, and neither of them could control themselves as they tumbled back onto his bed. Driven by intense need and desire, they let the stress and heartbreak of the night fade into raw passion.


	18. Chapter 18

It felt good to be back where she belonged.

AJ never felt more at home then when she was in Punk's arms, curled against his side or lying on his chest. As badly damaged as the past few weeks of drama and heartache had left her, somehow, being back by his side made it practically effortless to push her dormant pain below the surface. Whenever he looked down at her and their eyes met, her heart fluttered. Those piercing, bright green eyes, filled with love for only her, told her that everything was going to be okay. Everything would be okay, as long as they were together.

The next day at the Smackdown taping, AJ hurriedly apologized for Kaitlyn for how she'd treated her during her disaster fiasco with Daniel. Her best friend quickly forgave her, and before long their group was reformed. Things were still slightly tense between Kaitlyn and Punk (she had yet to forgive him for calling her a bitch, and AJ didn't really blame her), but AJ was sure things would improve with time.

But she should have known that her happiness with Punk and her friends wouldn't last. Later, she would admit to herself that she should have seen it coming, because nothing good ever truly lasted in her life. There was always another hefty, agonizing surprise waiting just around the corner.

* * *

Punk spent the entire week on the road with AJ, falling easily into their old pattern. At first, he hadn't been entirely sure about getting back together with his young, confused girlfriend, but it quickly became clear to him that he just couldn't stay away from her. So he welcomed her back with open arms, truly grateful that her presence was back in his life again.

The days passed in relative bliss, until the next Monday rolled around. They arrived at the arena at midday, and he and AJ were preparing to go have lunch with Zack, Kaitlyn, Alex, and Kofi when he received at text message. "Why don't you go on ahead?" he told her, eyes narrowed at his phone. "I'll catch up with you later, all right?"

AJ frowned. "But you need to eat," she reminded him, squeezing his hand.

"I'll grab something at the catering table," he assured her. "Don't worry about me. I just have something to take care of. Go have fun." He kissed her forehead.

She smiled up at him. "If you say so," she said, turning on her heel. "I love you!"

He smiled back. "Love you, too." They parted ways off the bus and he headed into the arena, putting his phone back in the pocket of his jacket. As he wove his way through the hallways, he wondered what the sender of message wanted to talk to him about so urgently. It almost made him a little nervous; he didn't even know his old friend was going to be there that night.

"Paul!" Punk greeted him happily. The man was clad in trademark suit and tie, as always. "I didn't know you were gonna be here. I thought I wouldn't see you again until the contract signing with Lesnar. That's not for a few weeks." He paused, frowning. "Is everything all right?"

Paul just smiled at him, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. "Everything's fine, Punk," the legendary manager assured him. "I just wanted to have a word with you. I've been watching you, you know."

Punk laughed; coming from anyone else, that statement would have worried him. But Paul Heyman had been watching him his whole career. "I know you have," he said, leaning back against the opposite wall.

"I've also heard some things, too," Paul added. "And that's what I need to talk to you about."

Punk nodded, although he hadn't a clue where this was going. "Shoot," he said. "What have you heard?"

"I heard you're dating that girl," Paul continued. "The one you and Daniel Bryan were in that little love triangle story with. AJ Lee."

"I am," Punk confirmed with another nod, but then he chuckled. "Well, it's been pretty rocky so far, actually. I think we've had maybe a week and a half of continuous dating since we got together… Some stupid stuff happened with Bryan. But that's over now. I'm pretty sure it'll be smooth sailing now."

"That's exactly it," Paul said. "You said it's been rocky so far. Now, I know onscreen portrayals aren't always accurate, so tell me… How much of this 'crazy' persona is really her?"

"She's not crazy," Punk assured him. "She does get pretty emotional sometimes, though, and I'm pretty sure this whole episode with Daniel has left her a little emotionally scarred."

"I see," Paul mused, nodding. "How does it affect you? And don't downplay it- remember, I have ears everywhere."

"It-" Punk sighed, looking down. "Come on, Paul. You didn't really come all this way to talk to me about my girlfriend, did you? What is this really about? I know you. Tell me your agenda."

"I'm concerned about you," Paul answered simply. "Any time something goes wrong in your relationship, you throw fits backstage. Your performance in the ring suffers. Remember, she's a rank above you in the company now. She holds a lot of power over you. It's never a good idea to be dating your boss. You know that."

"That only counts if we were to break up," Punk pointed out. "I don't see that happening any time soon. I love her. She loves me. It'll be fine."

"And if you have a messy break up somewhere down the line?" Paul pressed. "Who's to say she won't abuse her power and strip you of your title, or wear you out in a bunch of bullshit matches against people who don't even deserve to be in the ring with you?"

"So what are you suggesting?" Punk snapped, his eyes narrowing. "That I break up with her? If she's _so unstable, _wouldn't that just cause her to start abusing her power against me right away?"

"Look, Punk, you've dealt yourself a difficult hand here," Paul replied flatly. "This can only end two ways: badly, or worse. I've known women like her my whole life. They think they're headstrong and that they know what they're doing, but in reality, they're weak inside. They break down. And when they do, they take it out on the people they perceive to be the route of their problem. In this case, it's going to be you when the inevitable break up happens because she suspects you of cheating or claims you're not paying enough attention to her or you get bored of her. And that's when she'll start fucking with your career. End it now, before this relationship eats up months of your life, and it will be a lot more peaceful for everyone involved."

"I'm not breaking up with my girlfriend because you think it's a good idea!" Punk exclaimed. "Why would you want me to do that? Do you really think that low of me, that I would get into this without knowing what I'm doing?"

Paul laughed harshly. "You can probably still get her to keep sleeping with you, if that's what you're worried about," he said.

Punk just groaned. "Really, Paul? Really?"

Paul shook his head, becoming serious again. "Look, Punk, I'm just saying this out of concern for you. I've watched you grow and develop over many years, and I'd hate to see your legacy tainted because of some girl. You have to think of the future. You have your career to think of." He stepped forward, clapping a hand on the champion's shoulder. "Just think about what I've said, all right?"


	19. Chapter 19

AJ was completely oblivious to Punk's mental anguish that night as he brooded about what he and Paul Heyman had discussed. She simply chalked up his standoffish attitude to his usual pre-RAW moodiness, and thought nothing more of it. She was as bright and chipper as she always was when things were going well, and hung around her boyfriend's shoulders happily. She had no idea what was going on inside Punk's head.

The turmoil in his mind was absolute torture. All the relationships he'd had on the road had ended in angry disaster- he had more than one enemy in the diva's locker room because of it. And dating his _boss_? How could he not see how insane of an idea that was? He loved AJ with all of his heart, and she him, but how long before her love for him clouded her managerial judgment? That would land both of them in hot water with the higher-ups. Neither of them could afford that.

And what about AJ's own emotional anguish? She had very nearly gotten confined to a mental institution at the hands of man she thought she loved. The whole experience had left her utterly broken inside. And while being with Punk was beginning to heal her, she still and would probably continue in the foreseeable future to have difficulties moving past it. What if it managed to swallow her whole, leaving their relationship in ruins? What if he couldn't fix her?

_Stop that_, he scolded himself. _I love her. I'm letting people get into my head again. This is stupid. I'm not breaking up with my girlfriend because someone else told me to, even if it _is _Paul Heyman._

* * *

"I like arguing with you on camera," AJ giggled. "It's fun. And it gets it out of the way so we don't argue in private."

Punk laughed. "I'm glad you like being my boss," he said. "I guess it's kind of sexy, when you think it about it, even though I'm not the biggest fan of the suit."

"I know you like taking it _off_," she teased with a wink.

AJ had been the general manager of Monday night RAW for a week now, and so far, things were working out pretty well. There had yet to be any power plays like Paul had predicted, and Punk was strangely proud of this fact. _See? _he thought to himself smugly. _Everything's going just fine. _He draped an arm around her casually as they walked backstage, wandering aimlessly but glad to be enjoying each other's company.

"CM Punk?" asked a trainer, approaching them cautiously.

"What's up?" Punk asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Triple H wants to see you in his office," the trainer answered.

"Okay," he said, still raising an eyebrow curiously. He looked at AJ. "I'll catch up with you in a bit."

"No, he wants to see both of you," the trainer corrected.

"Huh," Punk muttered, nodding. "Weird. Okay." He linked hands with AJ. "Let's go."

"I wonder if Dad's mad," she joked as they walked in the direction of his office.

He just shrugged. "Last-minute card revisions, probably," he guessed. They stopped in front of the door temporarily marked 'Triple H'. Punk was prepared to barge right in, but AJ caught his arm and pulled it back, giving him a look of disgust.

"Knock first!" she snapped, following her own advice and knocking lightly. "I swear, men have no manners sometimes." She shook her head.

"Come in," came their boss's gruff voice from behind the door.

Punk pushed the door open. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Sit down," Hunter offered, gesturing to the chairs before his desk.

"I'll stand, thanks," Punk replied. He didn't like official meetings.

"Oh, relax," AJ said, tugging on his arm again. He grumbled and sat down next to her, watching as Hunter leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked.

"Some information has been brought to my attention," Hunter began, taking a deep breath.

Punk laughed. "You sound just like your daddy-in-law sometimes, you know that?" he asked.

Hunter fixed him with a cold, unsettling glare. "I've been told you two are dating," he continued.

He couldn't help it; Punk was already laughing again. "Seriously?" he asked. "That's what this is about? I thought that was common knowledge at this point. I wasn't aware this was a 'declare relationships between co-workers to the human resources department' kind of company. I thought we were pretty much the exact opposite of that."

"That's not the point," Hunter snapped. "I received an official complaint."

"A _complaint_?" AJ echoed; her immediate rage was the only thing that stopped Punk from leaping out of his chair. "Who the hell would complain about our relationship? That's ridiculous!"

"I'm not at liberty to reveal the complainant," Hunter said, "but you can read it." He passed a sheet of paper across the desk to them, the letterhead blacked out heavily with permanent marker. Both Punk and AJ leaned over it, brows furrowing the further they got down the page.

_To the Chief Operating Officer and Head of Talent Relations,_

_It has come to my attention that a romantic relationship has developed between two of your employees, April Mendez ('AJ Lee') and current WWE Champion Phillip Brooks ('CM Punk'). Because of Ms. Mendez's recent promotion to the role of General Manager of Monday Night RAW, this makes Mr. Brooks her subordinate. A romantic relationship between a superior and an inferior employee is not only highly inappropriate, but has the potential to become extremely volatile. With the development of favoritism and power plays not only likely but inevitable, I demand these two be separated for the welfare of the rest of the roster and this company as a whole._

AJ had just barely finished reading the letter when Punk snatched it away, crumpling the paper in his hands. "This is bullshit," he snapped, rising halfway out of his chair and glaring across the desk at Hunter. "This is complete bullshit. All of this is untrue. There is no fucking way that _anyone _would have a problem with our relationship. 'Favoritism'? Are they fucking insane? What, do they think she'll slip me extra appearance bonuses or put me over in the main event? _This is bullshit_!" Halfway through his rant he'd gotten up to pace the room frantically, overturning his chair in the process.

"Punk, calm down!" AJ pleaded, looking up at him with fearful eyes before looking back at Hunter. "What does this mean, then? What do we have to do?"

Hunter wasn't fazed by Punk's anger; he was used to it by now. "Standard protocol when there's a complaint like this is to make sure the relationship ends," he answered simply.

"All right," AJ said slowly. "Then I'll just give up being the GM. Then there's no problem, right? We'd be back on the same level."

"You can't," Hunter informed her, shaking his head. "The stipulation was added to your contract, remember? The board has no plans to release you from that role in the near future."

"So it's break up or lose our jobs?" Punk asked with a scowl. Hunter nodded. "That's fucking bullshit! This has never happened before, and you know it!"

"I know it is, but I've never gotten a complaint before," Hunter pointed out. "My hands are tied, Punk. So the order stands."

"This company doesn't rule my personal life anymore!" Punk shouted, slamming his fist on the desk. "I made sure of that!"

"It does when your personal life involves another one of my employees!" Hunter yelled, getting angry at Punk's insubordination now. "You think I like doing this? Of course not! But my hands are tied. This is my job, guys."

"This isn't your fucking job to-"

"_Stop_!" AJ shouted. She was crying now.

"Look," Hunter snapped, "you need to calm the fuck down and listen to me. We could have done this the easy way, but as usual, you're letting your damn temper get in the way, so I'll put it simply. If I hear whispers backstage of the two of you still being together, your asses are mine. Got it? End of discussion."

AJ fled the room in tears. Punk stormed out after her.


	20. Chapter 20

"We can keep it a secret," AJ whispered as soon as they reached Punk's bus. She was pacing back and forth, her hands clasped together. "We'll be really careful. No one will know."

Punk was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands as he listened to AJ assure herself that everything was going to be okay. He couldn't believe that any of this was actually happening. His first instinct had been to charge into the locker room and hold up the entirety of the roster, interrogating everyone until he found the culprit behind the letter. But his rage quickly gave way to despair, and now he could only sit and watch as AJ further deluded herself.

"Everything's going to be fine, right, Punk?" she continued, sitting down next to him and staring at him with hopeful eyes. "We'll just hide it. And then they'll get tired of the general manager angle eventually, I'll be able to go back to my normal job, and everything will go back to the way it was!" She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. "Right?"

Punk finally looked up, shaking his head slowly. "I don't think so, AJ," he replied quietly.

Her expression faded. "Why not?" she whispered.

"They'll find out," he answered. "They always do. Secret backstage relationships never work. People always find out. We'd be fired."

"Then I'll quit!" she cried. "I'll get released. I'll do something that would get me let out of my contract. Then they can't do anything to me!"

He just shook his head.

"So that's it? You're just… you're just giving up?" She stood up and backed away from him slowly. "You're not even willing to try?"

"It would be putting both of our careers on the line," he snapped. "You think this doesn't hurt me, too? I don't want either of us to get fired!"

"That's all you care about," she hissed back, her eyes filling with tears again. "Your career. You've only ever cared about your career!"

"That's not true," he shot back, rising to his feet. "You know I care about you. I love you. But I don't want you to lose your dream job because of me."

"And I'm willing to do that for you," she reminded him. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does! But you don't understand, AJ. You're young. You haven't lived what I've lived. I know this road. If you give up everything for me, you'll regret it forever. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, somewhere down the line, you'll regret giving up everything you've worked for your whole life. And you'll resent me for it."

"I won't!" she cried. "I promise! I'll be happy, because I'll be with you."

He just shook his head again. "That's not how it works, AJ," he said, touching her cheek gently. "Trust me on this one. I'd…" He took a deep breath; the words he knew he had to say next felt like a vice around his heart. "I'd rather break up now on good terms then have you hate me later because you let your dream go for me."

"On good terms?" she echoed loudly. "You think _this _is on good terms? You don't even care about me enough to try to make this work! Wow, it's a good thing I didn't go through with trying to ditch my contract, because we wouldn't have lasted anyway! You don't really care about me!"

"AJ, that's not true and you know it!"

"Just forget about it," she whispered, moving back from his hand. "And forget about me, too." Before he could stop her she ran from the bus, tears streaming down her cheeks. He was alone again, suddenly regretting everything.

* * *

Another miserable week passed, during which Punk and AJ completely ignored each other unless absolutely necessary. Punk hated what their relationship had devolved into, and as a result, he became hostile toward his friends again. He pushed them all away, wanting only solitude instead. This time, they understood; this break-up had been neither his nor AJ's fault. The stinging silence between them hurt, and the isolation Punk craved to get over it was only driving him further toward anger and rage.

AJ, meanwhile, spent most of her time sobbing in private. She snapped at everyone who tried to speak to her, even if it was about her managerial duties. Kaitlyn tried to comfort her, but she too was disregarded; there was only one person whose company she wanted right now, and she couldn't have it. She was almost sure that the anger he displayed on camera while screaming at her was real; it certainly felt real, as his eyes widened and the veins in his forehead bulged. Just thinking about it made her want to burst into tears again.

As RAW rolled around again, both of them were on edge. Neither were happy (for obvious reasons), but Punk was especially agitated. He decided he would give AJ one more chance to correct the problem; he would excuse the past week and give her the benefit of the doubt, that she was merely still upset. But as the night closed out and another argument between them rattled out over America's television screens, he followed her backstage angrily.

"I need to talk to you," he snapped, pushing past a few trainers as she walked away briskly.

"Not now," she muttered over her shoulder. "I'm busy. I don't have time for you right now."

"Then make time!" he demanded.

She didn't answer, hurrying down the hallway and into her temporary office. She tried to shut the door, but he was too quick for her, sliding his arm inside and preventing her from closing it. He forced it open and slammed it behind him, the sound making her jump. "I said, make time," he repeated, leaning back against the door.

"All right, fine," she growled, surprised at the strength she managed to add to her voice. "What do you want, Punk?"

"I want to know why you've been keeping me out of the main event, and why you aren't fixing it," he said coolly, folding his arms.

"Match order is rarely my choice," she reminded him. "You know that. That's the board. That's Vince. That's the writers. I don't have _that _much control."

"But you have influence," he pointed out. "And you have plenty of control over house shows. I was always in the main event at house shows. Now suddenly I've been bumped back. You used to talk about trying to see about changing the 'John Cena is everything' standard, and put me where I'm supposed to be. What happened to that, huh? Suddenly because we're not together anymore, things around here don't need to change?"

"You've got it all wrong," she said quietly, backing up.

"I think I'm exactly right," he accused, pushing himself off the door. "I think you're punishing me."

"So what if I am?" she snapped, again shocked at her own power. "You deserve it! You didn't even try! You never really loved me. Everyone who told me you would just get bored of me eventually was right. I was nothing to you."

"How _dare _you accuse me of not loving you," he growled. "I did everything for you! I put my neck on the line for you! I almost lost my damn mind because of you!"

"Those are just words to me, Punk," she shot back. "You're all talk. That's all it is. All ta-"

Before she could finish her sentence, his lips had crashed down against hers. Her first instinct was to shove him away. For a moment, she actually tried, but quickly relented and began to kiss him back. It was so easy to fall back into passion with him, and before she knew it he was tearing at her jacket. She let it fall back from her shoulders as he fumbled with the buttons to her shirt, popping them open to expose the skin beneath. She let out a sharp gasp as he bit her, hard, just above her bust.

If asked, he wouldn't be able to say what had come over him. He'd just gotten the sudden, immeasurable urge to taste her, to feel her, to have her body pressed against his… to prove that he was much more than talk. He picked her up and sat her on her desk, not breaking their lips apart as he fought to unbutton her pants. _Damn pants suit, _he thought. Her usual attire was much easier to strip her of. She helped him, and he pulled back for just a moment to roll his tights down. The look in her eyes was desperate as she locked her legs around his waist, silently begging to feel him inside her. He gladly gave her what she needed, thrusting himself into her with everything he had.

She let out a breathless moan, muffling the sound against his neck. Her hands grabbed at his sweaty back, clawing for purchase as she held on for the ride. It suddenly occurred to her that the door wasn't locked; anyone could walk in, at any moment, and catch them in this forbidden tryst. But it didn't matter. All that mattered right now was him, and that they wanted each other again, even if it was only for a few minutes. It wasn't long before the crash of his hips sent her into bliss, her whole body tightening around his. She was dimly aware of him groaning into her neck sometime later, stiffening as he filled her.

* * *

"This doesn't change anything," AJ whispered as she got dressed.

"I don't want it to," Punk replied as he pulled his tights back up.

But neither of them were sure who they were trying to convince.


	21. Chapter 21

Throughout the next several weeks, AJ and Punk fought constantly, wherever they happened to find each other- in the ring, in the back, at rest stops on the road, in hotel lobbies. Her actions continued to infuriate him, and he loudly voiced his anger every chance he could. When the cameras stopped rolling, their arguments only became more intense. They hurled irate curses and vile insults at each other, the likes of which burned the rest of the roster's ears. They would only stop when finally pulled apart, either by the friends they'd forgotten or whoever happened to be nearby that had decided things were getting a little too heated.

But behind closed doors, their torrid affair continued.

It happened everywhere- her office, maintenance rooms, his bus, her rental car, both of their hotel rooms. It was a fairly predictable pattern, too. She would be walking through an arena several hours before a show started and feel his strong, tattooed hand grab her arm. He would pull her into a nearby closet and begin tearing at her clothes, and soon they would be tangled in a passionate embrace. When they were done, they would quickly redress and part ways, completely ignoring each other. They would carry on as though nothing had happened, until the next time he came knocking at her hotel room door or followed her to her car. It got to the point where she incorporated shorts into her GM 'uniform', just to make things easier.

Each time it happened, AJ promised herself it would be the last time. But it never was. The hunger for him kept driving her back into his arms, craving his touch just as much as she loathed it.

* * *

Something inside Punk was changing.

At first, he wasn't sure what it was. But as time passed, the monster inside was beginning to reveal itself. It was the feeling he got when it seemed like he'd lost everything- his girl, his friends, his motivation to keep people smiling. No, it was all a fraud. It was a sham, just like the lies whispered into Jerry Lawler's headset that he in turn fed to the crowd. What he desired now, what he had always desired, was the respect he'd worked years to earn. And he was going to get it, no matter what the cost.

He knew what was driving him back toward such a dark, angry path; everyone knew. And despite all of it, he still found himself yearning for the woman whose existence was driving him absolutely crazy. He knew his actions were, at the very least, detrimental to the both of them, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care. Every time he channeled his frustrations and rage into passion for her, for his addiction to her body, he felt his fears receding.

He needed her.

He didn't want to admit it to himself. Just thinking about it made him furious all over again. He braced his hands on the bathroom counter in his hotel room, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Something about it needed to change. Not a moment after the thought popped into his head, he was reaching for his bag. He unearthed the trimmer he normally used for his beard, and plugged it in. He flicked the button several times, listening to the constant whirr of the tiny motor that fueled the blades. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and plunged the trimmer against his head.

When Punk opened his eyes, a large chunk of his hair was missing. _Fuck, _he thought, staring at his new misshapen haircut. _Why the fuck did I even do this? _The only way to salvage it now would be to cut the rest off. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and continued with the painstaking process of shaving off his hair. When he was done, he was left with an even, military-like buzz cut. _Huh. Not as bad as I thought it would be._

The bathroom floor was covered in tufts of dark brown hair. He quickly swept it up into a small pile and threw it in the trash. When he was done he sat down on the floor, constantly running his hands over the buzzed down remains of his hair as he stared up at the mirror. The longer he looked at it, the more he liked it. It made him look crueler, more hardened. It matched the way he felt inside.

He decided he wanted to show AJ his new look- not that she wouldn't see it the next day at RAW, anyway, but he wanted to an excuse to justify to himself yet another encounter between them. He brushed stray strands of hair off his chest as he walked down the hallway to her room (since they started sleeping together again, they always booked their hotel rooms on the same floor for the sake of convenience). He knocked rapidly on her door; it was nearly midnight, but he knew she wouldn't be asleep yet. She never was. She opened the door a moment later, yawning dramatically; she was dressed in only a white T-shirt that left very little to the imagination, and a pair of his boxer shorts. _So that's where I left those, _he thought.

"Twice in one day?" she asked, stepping back from the door to allow him inside. "You usually don't come knocking-" She paused, glancing up at him, having just noticed his haircut. "Oh my God, what happened to your hair? It's… all gone. Did you do that just now? I just saw you a few hours ago!"

"Yeah," he replied simply, shutting the door behind him. "I needed a change."

"But why?" she asked. "You look like you're about to enlist."

"I didn't come here to talk," he said gruffly, pulling her toward him by the bottom hem of her shirt. He was already pawing at her greedily.

"You never do," she said quietly, moving back to pull her shirt off.

"So?" he snapped. "What do you expect out of me? You know exactly what this is. It's nothing more."

"I know," she muttered.

He stopped her shirt mid-rise, as much as he desperately wanted to touch what was underneath. "Do you not want to do this?" he asked. As tumultuous as their 'relationship' was, he would never force her or any other woman to do something they didn't want to do. He usually obtained permission through her nonverbal, extremely not subtle cues; but tonight, she didn't seem so sure.

"No, no, I do," she assured him, moving his hands away so she could strip her shirt off. She smiled weakly, as though this would bring strength to her words.

His lips formed into the twisted, almost evil smile that always made her knees go weak. Without any further warning her grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed tiny frame back onto the bed.


	22. Chapter 22

"Wow," Paul snickered, "nice haircut. You look like an inmate on his way to death row. The stitches really add to it, too. I like it."

Punk sighed. "Nice to see you too," he replied, his voice deadpan. He was sitting on a production crate, legs folded beneath him. It had been a week since his latest RAW stunt, which involved heavily beating on 62-year-old Jerry Lawler and accidentally splitting his head open on the side of a steel cage. The middle of his head was now adorned in three blue stitches, a prominently displayed battle scar.

"You went pretty rough on Lawler," Paul pointed out. "Don't you think he's a little too old to be taking those kinds of bumps?"

"He agreed to step into the ring with me, didn't he?" Punk reminded him. "He never told me there were any limitations. If he had, I would have stuck to them. Besides, Jerry's a fucking bastard. He's a coward. He has no spine. He just spits out the bullshit lines he's fed. If he were a real man, he would call it like he saw it. He would say what was actually happening. I used to respect that man…" He shook his head as he hopped off the crate. "So what are you doing here? I thought you were all finished with Lesnar."

"I am," Paul answered. "But over the past week, I've gone through some negotiations with the board. I went to them with your plight, and they've-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Punk cut him off. "My plight? What's my plight?"

"Well, you've seemed a little… directionless lately," Paul explained. "Ever since your little ex-girlfriend scuffle. You want respect. I'm good at getting respect. The board agrees, and they've decided, if it's to your liking, to align me by your side. For now."

This brought a smile to Punk's face. "You? My mouthpiece? Why, Paul, it's everything I've ever hoped and dreamed of. When do we start?"

Paul grinned back. "Tonight."

"All right," Punk said, pocketing his phone. "I have to go change and-"

"Don't bother," Paul cut in. "You're not wrestling tonight."

Punk raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I am," he corrected. "AJ told me earlier. She's putting me in a match with…" He frowned, trying to remember; she'd told him while he was lying on the floor of a supply closet earlier, recovering while she got dressed. "Oh. Sheamus."

"Not anymore," Paul said with a wide grin. "You're not playing by the little girl's rules anymore. We're in your hometown tonight, Punk. You're taking the night off. Let's go get something to eat."

Punk smiled again. Anything that would drive AJ crazy was fine by him.

* * *

"_I'm taking a personal day."_

AJ was absolutely furious as she paced about backstage. How dare he go off-script like that! How dare he defy her authority! How _dare _he! She crushed the Styrofoam cup she was holding. Water spilled out over the cracked edges, soaking her hand, but she hardly cared. She knew now what the phrase 'seeing red' meant. She wondered briefly, a little foolishly, if this was how Kane felt all the time.

She spent the rest of the show shouting and snapping at anyone who approached her, her head bent over her phone as she sent Punk a mass amount of angry text messages. He finally popped back up about 20 minutes before RAW was to end, accompanied by Paul Heyman. She stormed over to him, shoving past a trainer to get to the two laughing men.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she cried, fists clenched firmly at her sides. "How dare you just walk out when I have you scheduled for a match! I was helping you out, Punk. I was giving you a high-profile, champion-versus-champion match in your hometown! How dare you-"

"Relax, _sweetheart_," Punk cut her off, his voice oozing sarcasm. "I'm back. Don't worry. I've got a bit with Johnny B. Boy Scout in a few. The show will be just fine."

"And does John know that?" AJ snapped, still breathing heavily.

"Not yet," Punk replied evenly, "but he will when he sees me. He may not be the sharpest, but he knows how to work with me. We'll be all right."

"And when exactly were you planning on telling me any of this?" AJ demanded. "You can just make things up on the fly, Punk. You know that. This show runs on a tight schedule. I can't just have people running off and coming back and running their own little production!"

"Actually, I wasn't planning on telling you at all," Punk admitted. "But since you came over here and asked me so politely…"

"Listen, baby doll," Paul said curtly, speaking up for the first time during the exchange between his newest 'client' and the general manager. "Try not to overstep your boundaries and overestimate the power of your role here, all right? This is your champion you're talking to. He's carrying the main event scene, regardless of how much you may think otherwise. When he says we've got things planned and under control, you can rest assured that we've got things planned and under control."

AJ stiffened; Paul really knew how to get under just about anyone's skin. "What are you even doing here, anyway?" she spat. "I thought you were done."

Paul smiled thinly. "I decided to hang around a little longer," he informed her proudly. "I thought my protégé here could use just a bit more guidance. A helping hand, if you will. Someone to keep his head clear when little menaces like you try to invade it."

AJ's cheeks were heating up. She spun on her heel and stormed off before the pair could upset her any further than they already had.

* * *

Later that night, alone in her hotel room, AJ was far too wired to sleep. She got up to pace the room constantly, still infuriated over the events that had taken place at RAW. She had half a mind to go find him, walk right up to him, and give him a much-deserved slap across the face. She'd done it before; why not actually mean it this time?

She had finally sat down on her bed when she heard someone knocking frantically at her door. She knew that knock; she'd know it anywhere. She stomped over to the door and threw it open angrily. "What are you doing here?" she snapped.

Punk just smiled as he moved past her, shutting and locking the door behind him. "You know exactly why I'm here," he said. He pulled her into his arms.

"You can just come to my room after what you did tonight!" she cried.

"Come on," he muttered, kissing her neck. "We fight every day. You never cared before."

She shivered beneath his touch. "You… you almost ruined my show," she continued, trying to stay firm.

"Don't worry," he whispered, inhaling her scent of her skin as he nipped gently at her. His hands crept to her shoulders, where he began to take the straps of her tank top down.

"You… you… you crossed a l-line," she murmured, tilting her head back. She could already feel her grip on her anger slipping away. His hand dipped inside the waistband of her shorts, running teasingly up and down. She let out a soft, strained moan.

"That's right," he said. "Just relax."

She let go and lost herself in him again. As always, she couldn't resist him.

* * *

AJ was still panting heavily when Punk rolled off her, shifting to sit up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You're using me," she said quietly, when she had recovered enough to speak.

He glanced back at her for a moment. "So?" he asked. "You're using me, too."

"But it's different with you," she insisted. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest as though she were now embarrassed about him seeing her undressed. "You can control me. It's like… It's like you own me, and you know it. You like it. You crave it."

He turned around. "I wouldn't be able to control you if you didn't let me," he said simply. "You can't act like the victim here. Face it. I wouldn't have so much power over you if you didn't give it to me."

She rolled over, unwilling to talk anymore. This 'relationship' between them, whatever it was, was starting to become toxic (if it hadn't been already). They both knew it, but neither of them cared. She remained facing the wall as he got up, dressed, and left.


	23. Chapter 23

Stalking around the arena next Monday, Punk didn't want to believe what AJ had said to him the previous week after RAW.

He'd been brooding about it all week, at house shows and on the road and when he was miraculously able to go home for a few days. He tried not to think about it much, but the more he tried to resist, the more it ate at his mind. He _did _like his power over AJ, didn't he? And he knew why, too. It was because the grip he had over his matches, his opponents, the atmosphere backstage, his role in the company, the way fans perceived him-hell, even his own _destiny_-was starting to slip. He hated that the respect he had fought so hard for wasn't being displayed, so he exercised his power over the one thing he knew he still had complete control over- her.

_That makes me a bad person, _he thought, _doesn't it? Fuck it. I might as well go full-circle then._

He knew he would be facing Jerry Lawler again that night, after having (an admittedly slightly star-struck) confrontation with Bret Hart. He was to issue a challenge, Jerry would accept, and once again they would tango, only to be interrupted and joined by Randy Orton and Dolph Ziggler. _This is my chance. I can teach a lesson._

"Going to teach someone a lesson tonight?" Paul asked.

Punk nearly jumped as his long-time mentor spoke from behind him- Paul had always had the uncanny ability to almost sense what Punk was thinking. "Yeah," he answered, turning around. "I'm teaching a lesson tonight. I'm teaching everyone a lesson tonight. I'm going to teach them that no one should tell lies about their champion. Not even sad, washed-up old men hiding behind the commentary table."

Paul smiled knowingly. "Good," he said. "Everyone needs to hear it."

AJ suddenly appeared beside them; Paul jumped a bit, much the same way Punk had only moments earlier. It brought a small smile to his face, as his newest 'associate' clearly had yet to become accustomed to how quickly and quietly the general manager moved about. "Don't screw this up," she said coolly, staring directly at him. "You're on three times tonight. You have two matches. Do not make me regret giving you so much screen time." Before either of the men could respond, she turned on her heel and walked back the way she came. As Punk had expected, she was still upset about the previous week. No matter. He had bigger things to worry about now.

* * *

Punk was near catering when it happened.

"Go! Go! Go!" came a loud cry. Punk whirled around to face the commotion, as many members of the roster did. His eyes widened as several paramedics and members of security rushed past, wheeling a stretcher through the hall to the back, where the ambulance was waiting.

"Who is that?" Punk asked, craning his neck to see over the rapidly forming crowd.

"It's Jerry," someone near him whispered.

"Jerry? What?" Punk shoved through the mass of wrestlers and trainers, jogging to catch up with the stretcher. He felt his chest seize up as his eyes fell upon the fallen body of the man he'd been in the ring with no less than half an hour prior. He grabbed the sleeve of the nearest trainer and yanked him back. "What the hell happened?"

"Heart attack," the trainer answered. "At the announce table."

"Why?" Punk demanded.

"I don't know, okay?" he snapped. "They think he was overworked. I've gotta go."

Punk watched helplessly as they carted the hall of famer away, eventually crumpling down against the wall. He remained staring down at his feet for several long minutes as the commotion backstage turned into an uproar. At some point, he felt someone nudge him with their foot.

"What's the matter, champ?" Paul asked. "You still have a segment with Cena and Hart at the end of the show. It's coming up soon."

Punk looked up at him. "Lawler just had a fucking heart attack at ringside," he said quietly. "I… I think it might have been my fault. I think I pushed him too hard."

To his surprise, Paul merely shrugged. "So what if it was? The King's a big boy. If he couldn't handle the champ's heat, he shouldn't have entered the kitchen in the first place."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Punk snapped. "Yeah, the guy's an asshole, but he didn't deserve-"

Before Punk could finish, Paul snatched the hood of his jacket and yanked the champion to a standing position with strength Punk never knew his old friend had. "Get it together," Paul hissed. "You cannot look weak on TV. You need to pull your balls out of your skirt and be a man right now, do you understand me? You cannot drop the ball this late in the game."

Punk couldn't even find the words to respond. He just nodded and went to wait by the curtain.

* * *

AJ's night had been absolute hell.

She spent the rest of the show following Jerry's collapse and the hour after it running about backstage, making rushed phone calls and ordering people around frantically. She couldn't believe what had happened, but the edict had been handed down from above that show would go on regardless, so she fought to regain control of everything as the night continued on.

When things finally died down enough for her to leave, she was grateful to be able to return to the hotel. She took a long, well-deserved shower, then lay back on her bed to await Punk's inevitable arrival. While he didn't come to her room every night they were on the road, he almost always appeared after RAW.

But at nearly 2 AM, he still hadn't shown up. It was only then, as she considered turning in for the night, did it occur to her that he might be feeling some remorse over what had happened to Jerry; he'd been very physical with the old-timer, after all. After weighing her options, she finally decided to go check on him. She knew he didn't like when she tried to make an 'emotional connection' (as he called it) with him anymore, but tonight was different. He would have to make an exception.

She arrived in front of his room a moment later, only a dozen or so doors down from her own. She knocked rapidly several times, mimicking the way he often called upon her. "Go away," came a muffled growl after a moment of silence.

"Punk, it's me," she said, knocking again. "Open up."

"I know who it is. Go away."

"Come on," she said, fiddling with the door handle.

"Fuck off, damn it," he snapped, louder this time. She could tell he was right in front of the door. "Can't I be alone for a few hours of my life?"

His words were a little jarring, but she tried not to let them faze her. "If you don't let me in, I can just go down to the lobby and get an extra room key," she said. "I booked your room, remember?"

There was more silence before she finally heard the click of the lock shifting, and the door opened slowly. She peeked inside; he wasn't standing at the doorway, so she slid inside the room. The door slam shut behind her. She jumped a bit, looking down to see that he'd been sitting against the wall beside the door. He was wearing only shorts, and his knees were pulled up to his chest.

"Your eyes are red," she noted, kneeling in front of him.

He shrugged, moving his forearm to rub his eyes. "So? What the fuck do you care?"

"I just… wanted to check on you," she said quietly.

He rubbed his eyes again. "What for?"

"Look, I'm not stupid," she replied flatly. "I know you're upset. You bolted after your segment with John and Bret and didn't talk to anyone."

"Of course I'm upset!" he shouted with enough force to frighten her, his eyes widening. "I beat up an old man three times in three weeks, and tonight he finally had a fucking heart attack because he couldn't handle it anymore. It's my goddamn fault! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"It's not your fault," AJ assured him, placing a hand on his arm. "He's old. He overworks himself. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed to take on this role against you. It doesn't make you a bad person because his body couldn't take what he was putting it through."

"Doesn't make me a bad person?" he echoed, shaking her hand off as he stood up. "I _am _a bad person. This is just more proof of it."

"You're not," she insisted, standing up. "You're not with me."

"How could you say that?" he cried. "If anything, I'm even worse with you! I broke your heart a dozen times, and now I just keep you around to fuck whenever I want like some animal. I'm exactly like every asshole who takes advantage of the innocent girl cliché."

"It's… it's okay," she practically whispered, her voice starting to break.

"It's not okay! It's never been okay!" He slammed his hand against the wall; she jumped again.

"It's okay," she repeated. "You need me."

"I do need you," he muttered, running a frantic hand over his hair. "You have no fucking idea how much I need you."

This surprised her; she hadn't expected him to say anything like that. She'd expected him to tell her off, as usual, to tell her that she was nothing to him, that he needed her mouth shut and her ass on his bed. But now, suddenly, for the first time in weeks, he was opening up to her again. "You think you need me?" she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

He pulled her toward him, his hands closing around her arms. "I need you," he repeated, his eyes boring into hers. "I need you every day."

Before he could say another word she tilted her head up to kiss him, capturing his insecurities between her soft lips. He quickly responded, pulling her body firmly against his as his tongue teased hers. It wasn't long after that when animal instinct took over, and he pushed her back onto the bed. His heart felt like it was skipping beats inside his chest, a passion he hadn't felt in a long time coming back to the surface as he tore at her clothes. She let out a tiny squeak as his teeth sank into the tender, newly exposed flesh of her stomach, her hands reaching down to tug at the waistband of his shorts. He struggled out of them, then pinned her to the bed with his knees as his mouth ravaged her torso.

One of her hands fell between them to stroke him. He moaned into her neck, his knees going weak as she teased him. With a renewed strength, he grabbed both of her hands and clasped them together over her head, pinning them at the wrists with one hand. "Beg me," he ordered, grinding his hips against hers.

Her eyes widened in fear for a moment, her arms struggling slightly. But it didn't take her long to understand. He needed this. He needed to feel in control of something again, to have absolute power over his current situation. So she nodded quickly. "Please," she begged, her waist rising to meet his.

"Again," he commanded, nipping her neck. His eyes were like wildfire. "_Beg me_."

"Please, baby," she moaned, feeling him throbbing against her. "Please do it."

Still keeping his grip on her wrists, he forced himself between her legs. He was relentless, his movements hard and fast as she groaned and writhed beneath him. She had never felt him like this before; it was a little scary, but it was new and exciting. She wanted more of it, her moans matching his thrusts as his hips bucked wildly against hers. She cried out his name, her eyes clamping shut as she felt him finishing inside her. He collapsed on her a moment later, both their bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"I love you," he breathed, before he could stop himself. It was the last thing she heard before passing out in his arms.


	24. Chapter 24

AJ awoke the next morning to rapid movement around the room. She sat up groaning, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she attempted to figure out what was going on around her. The air felt heavy and warm, like someone had recently showered. "Punk?" she muttered tiredly. "What are you doing?"

Punk briefly glanced over at her from the other side of the room, where he was hurriedly stuffing things into his suitcase. "Nothing," he replied, turning his attention back to packing.

She leaned forward, the sheet that had been wrapped around her falling from her chest. "Running out on me again, are you?" she teased. "Why are you in such a hurry, anyway? You're not on Smackdown and as far as I remember, you don't have any media appearances. What's the rush?"

This time, he didn't even look at her. "I just need to go," he answered.

Frowning, she stood up and crossed the room. "Your back is still wet," she noted, her fingertips dragging lightly across his damp skin until they hit the waistband of his shorts. "Slow down." She picked up the towel he'd thrown on the bed at some point and began drying him off.

"That's okay," he said quickly, moving away from her touch. He finally turned to face her, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes for a moment. "Can you… put something on?" They both glanced around; her clothes from the previous night were in a pile on the side of the bed, on the floor. "Right, sorry." He pulled an 'In Punk We Trust' shirt out of his bag and handed it to her.

"But this is yours," she said, looking down at it.

He shrugged. "I get a new one every night. Just put it on."

"You act like you've never seen me without clothes on," she said with a chuckle, but she put the shirt on anyway. It fit her like a dress, almost reaching her knees. He gave her a nod of approval and again turned back to packing. They remained in awkward silence for several minutes as Punk shuffled things around in his bag.

"So, you never told me why you're rushing out," AJ continued. "What's wrong?"

Punk sighed, zipping up his suitcase and turning around; he didn't want to have this conversation. "We can't do this anymore," he said flatly, folding his arms.

"What… what do you mean?" she asked, stepping back.

"This." He gestured back and forth between them. "We can't do it anymore, okay? It's hurting us both, and I'm done."

"But… How can you…" she mumbled, desperately searching for the words to quantify what she was feeling. "But what about last night? You said you-"

He cut her off abruptly, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence. "Last night was a mistake. I shouldn't have said what I said. I shouldn't have even let you in. I was emotional."

Her eyes widened, filling with tears as she looked up at him. "Does that mean… you didn't mean it?"

"I…" He lifted his hand to her cheek for a moment, stroking it gently before he realized what he was doing. Biting his lip, he lowered his hand. "I have to go. Don't worry about the room. I'll check out." He turned to put on his shirt.

"Punk, please," she begged. "I thought… I thought we were getting better… We can talk about it… We can make it work… Please!"

He shook his head as he tied his shoes. "It can't," he said. "Look at you. This is destroying you."

"No, what you're doing right now is destroying me!" she cried, the tears streaming down her cheeks now. "Why can't you just let yourself be happy and stop trying to punish yourself?"

This time, he didn't answer her. He put on his hat and grabbed his bag, wheeling it out the door. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked down the hallway, burning into his back from where she stood in the doorway. He was tempted to look back, but he knew he couldn't. If he did, he would surely go running straight back into her embrace.

_He's going to regret this, _she thought miserably.

* * *

"So, how are we going to do the finish?"

Punk glanced up from the boots he was lacing up. "Not now, John," he muttered, looking back down.

"Yes, I see," John said, nodding. "Tying your shoes is very important stuff. It's certainly much more important than figuring out the finish to our match tonight."

Punk stood up, folding his arms. "We were already told," he said stiffly. "We both have both shoulders down on the mat. What's more to discuss?"

"Well, sure, we know what we're supposed to do, but how are we-"

"What are you, some kid fresh out of wrestling school?" Punk snapped. "You have to plan out every spot in your match? Can't just call it on the fly, like a real man? Come on, John Boy. We've wrestled how many fucking times now? Do you not know how to handle me in the ring anymore?"

"Ooh," John said, holding up his hands and backing up a few feet. "A little testy tonight, aren't we?"

"I'm really not in the mood for your shit right now," Punk growled.

"You haven't been 'in the mood' for weeks," John noted. "Come on, man. You've been sour since July. What the hell is with you lately? It's AJ, isn't it?"

"_Don't _talk to me about her," Punk warned, shaking his index finger inches from his opponent's face. "It's none of your fucking business. It's no one's fucking business."

"It's my business if it's going to affect you in the ring," John shot back, remaining calm. "If you're distracted, that puts us both at risk."

"Let's get one thing straight," Punk hissed, his voice low and resonating with anger. "When I'm in the ring, my head is in the ring. _Nothing _clouds my judgment when I'm wrestling. How fucking dare you disrespect me by even _thinking _otherwise, let alone claiming that I would put either of us at risk."

John just held his hands up again, not wanting to fight. "Look," he said, "I was just-"

"Just nothing!" Punk shouted. "Don't you dare question my devotion to doing what I'm the best at! Fuck you, John!" He shoved past the 10-time champion, furious.

_They all think they can just walk all over me, _he thought as he went to find Paul. _They think they can disrespect me and say whatever the fuck they want. Well, that shit is over. I'm not weak. I don't need anyone. I don't need AJ holding my hand, and I don't need to blame myself for things that aren't my fault. I'll show them. I'll fucking show them. I'll show everyone._


	25. Chapter 25

"You're stronger now than you've ever been," Paul said firmly.

Punk laughed harshly. "Doesn't feel that way sometimes," he muttered.

"Hey!" Paul snapped, placing his hands on Punk's shoulders. "Don't start with that bullshit talk. Since when did you start doubting yourself, anyway? You know you're the best! It's stitched on all your T-shirts! It's ingrained in your mind and the minds of everyone out there. Don't you dare start acting like some wayward little boy. Get your head together!"

"My head _is _together," Punk growled back. "Don't fucking question me, Paul."

His mentor smiled. "That's a good boy," he said. "Let's get out there. We have a 'super main event' to contend with. 'Super Cena' and 'Super Sheamus' are nothing to you." He clapped a hand on the champion's back as they walked out of the locker room. "They can't wrestle their way out of a paper bag compared to you. No one has the power in that ring the way you do. You are the best, do you understand me? You're the best, Punk. You're the best in the world."

* * *

"AJ, I don't know if I can do this!"

AJ looked up from her desk. "I don't have time for this, Brad," she said flatly. "You'll be fine." She busied herself again with looking through her various contract documents.

The young referee stood before her, his face ashen. "But I've never refereed a main event match before," he insisted. "Not between guys like this. What if I screw up? They'll kill me!"

She sighed, putting the papers down and standing up. "You'll be _fine_," she assured him again. "You've been doing this for months, and they've been doing this for years. They know what they're doing, and all you have to do is pay attention and follow their directions. If they call a spot in the ring, just go with it. Do you remember the finish?"

Brad nodded quickly. AJ had told him several times throughout the day what he was supposed to do.

"All right, then! You should have nothing to worry about." AJ smiled sweetly. "You'll do great, Brad. I have faith in you. That's why I chose you. Now get out of my office." She watched as the timid, inexperienced referee ducked out of the room, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. _You'll do great, all right, _she thought.

* * *

The dizzying motion of John Cena's Attitude Adjustment sent Punk crashing down. He was aware of his opponent pulling his right leg back. He felt the mat beneath them vibrate as the referee dropped to his knees, preparing to count. In one hurried movement Punk swung his other leg up onto the rope, being only a foot or two from the edge of the ring. His ankle managed to catch just on the edge, resting there. Surely the ref would know, as per his directions, to check before completing his count…

_One, two, three._

Punk's eyes widened in rage as the ref stood, raising John's arm in victory. He locked furious gazes with Paul, who was waving his arms rapidly at the ref and pointing frantically to Punk's leg. "The rope!" Paul yelled. "Look at the damn rope!"

"Hey!" Punk shouted, watching helplessly as the ref raised an arm each of John and Sheamus in celebration. "Hey! _Hey_!" He finally got the young man's attention as John and Sheamus exited the ring. "My foot was on the rope, you idiot! How could you not see that?"

"I'm sorry," the ref replied. "I didn't see it."

"I don't care what you saw!" Punk snapped. "It happened, you son of a bitch!"

"Look, I didn't see, and I made my call," the ref said simply. "I'm sorry."

"This was not how this was supposed to end, you idiot!" Punk shouted back. "You saw! Didn't you?" He gestured wildly to Paul, who nodded and pointed back to Punk's still-hanging leg. He and Paul proceeded to have a shouting match with the ref, who rapidly crossed the ring to avoid the champion's wrath. "Where the hell are you going? Get back here!" He followed the terrified man, only to hit right into Paul's arm.

"He's a ref," Paul reminded him, trying to cool Punk's inconsolable rage. "He's a ref."

"I don't care!" Punk snapped. He followed the ref up the ramp, Paul yanking at his arm the whole time. "My foot was on the rope! I know you didn't see, I know there's no instant replay, that's why I'm telling you that my foot was on the damn rope! Listen to me! Come back here! _Listen to me_!"

As soon as they were backstage and clear of the cameras, Paul immediately shoved him away from the ref. "Get a hold of yourself," Paul demanded. "You almost attacked a referee-the guy's practically a _kid_, for chrissakes-live on RAW!"

"He fucked up a call!" Punk shouted. "I was supposed to win that match! Is he fucking blind?"

"I know," Paul assured him. "Don't worry, this isn't over. Kid! What's your name?"

The ref had been hastily retreating when Paul called to him, reluctantly turning on his heel. "Brad," he answered hesitantly. "Brad Maddox."

"This won't be the last we'll be seeing of each other, Mr. Maddox," Paul warned as Brad ran off.

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Punk ranted, throwing his hands up as he paced back and forth. "He screwed up the fucking finish! How does a trained referee screw up the finish! He's supposed to have been told how to deal with what we're doing! What if that had been a title match? What if he caused the title to change hands when he wasn't supposed to, and fuck up _my _reign? Fuck, it's almost like he forgot the finish! Like no one told-" He stopped mid-sentence, the truth suddenly crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. He knew now exactly what had happened. Without a word to Paul, he stormed off, leaving his friend and mentor puzzled and holding his title belt.

"Where is she?" Punk demanded of everyone he passed, the veins in his forehead looking as though they were threatening to pop. He gave the nearest heavy object-a production crate-a rough shove, sending it toppling over onto the floor. "Where the fuck is she? Where's AJ? _Where's AJ_?"

"I'm right here, Punk," came AJ's voice from behind him.

He spun around, his eyes fixing upon her. "What the fuck did you do?" he shouted, his face inches from her. "I don't know what you did, but you fucked up my match somehow. I bet you told that little fucker of a ref the wrong finish, didn't you? _Didn't you_?"

"Oh, relax," she said nonchalantly. "What's the big deal? It's not like it was a title match or anything. It was just a little television match on RAW."

"_What's the big deal_?" he cried. "The _big deal _is that you're fucking with my matches as a part of some sort of misguided revenge scheme! You're fucking up my win/loss record and you're fucking up my angle! You're abusing your power over me, _again_!"

"I'm not doing anything," she said innocently, remaining calm despite his rage. "It's not my fault an official made a mistake."

"This isn't over," he hissed, sticking his finger in her face. "This is far from fucking over. Just you wait." He stormed past her, his sweaty shoulder knocking into hers. He already had an idea formulating in his head, and he couldn't wait to tell Paul.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's note: Sorry there's been such a gap between updates! Life's been a little hectic lately. I'll make it up to you guys somehow. To start, here's two chapters at once. Enjoy!**

Punk spent the week refining his plan with Paul. He spoke to virtually no one else as he went about his days, vehemently centered on revenge and nothing else. He was absolutely vile at house shows, hurling insults at the crowd and his opponents as his internal rage built. While most people were now fearful of his new attitude, backing away as he made his way through whichever arena they happened to find themselves in, Paul only encouraged his anger.

"This is what you need," Paul would keep telling him. "This is what you need to stay at the top. Nobody got to where you are and stayed there by playing nice."

* * *

AJ had been running herself ragged all week. She just knew Punk was planning _something_- some sort of scheme to get back at her for what she'd done. _I can't believe I was so fucking stupid_, she thought. Messing with Punk on air was a deed that never went unpunished, and she knew that. So why had she gone out of her way to make sure he'd had a bad night, knowing he would make it his mission to make her miserable in return? Punk and his new shadow Paul Heyman had almost ungodly influence backstage- if they wanted something to happen on RAW, they could easily go over her head and make it happen.

When she arrived at the arena for the next RAW, neither of them could be found. Punk's bus wasn't even in the parking lot, although several people had indeed confirmed that both he and Paul were in the building. She found herself holed up in her temporary office, biting her nails nervously in anticipation of the night. She very nearly forgot what matches she was supposed to be making; she had to check her e-mail several times just to remember.

As the beginning of the show drew nearer, she took her place near the monitors and started handing down orders anxiously. At this point, she was virtually immune to the music and fireworks that blared as the program started. Head bent over her phone, she didn't even notice as Punk and Paul strode past her for the very first time the day. They were headed out to the ring, and Punk was carrying a chair.

"_Ladies and gentlemen," Paul's assertive voice boomed, "my name is Paul Heyman."_

"What the hell?" AJ cried, her head snapping up to look at one of the screens in front of her. "How- how did they get out there? They're not supposed to be out there! They're not starting the show!"

The trainer to her left merely blinked at her. "They walked right by you," he said. "I thought they were supposed to. How did you not see them?"

She waved the man away, already feeling foolish enough without his input. She could only stare at the monitors in open-mouthed horror.

"_I am honored to be sharing the ring this evening with the WWE champion," Paul continued, "the best in the world, CM Punk! Unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen, we have some bad news for you tonight, because this show is grinding to a halt, right… about… now." The crowd erupted as Paul stuck his watch in front of Punk's face in a dramatic fashion. "RAW will not be presented this evening until justice is served. And I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about! Last week, during the main event of RAW… You know, instead of me just telling you about it, I've arranged for footage to be played for you. And that's the cue for the footage to be rolled right now."_

"What the hell is going on?" AJ snapped, glancing around angrily. "Who the hell set this up?" But the film of the match-ending upset from the previous week was already up on the Titantron.

"_John Cena, to his credit, hits the Attitude Adjustment," Paul commentated. "One! Two! Foot on the rope! Foot on the rope! May I please see that in slow motion?" Obeying his command, the tape was played back at half the speed. "Now here it is. One. Two. No excuses! Foot on the rope long before the ref hit three. Freeze! Freeze it! Freeze it right there! Freeze that! Now what does that tell you?"_

AJ was fuming inside. No one around her was reacting, leading her to believe that this little coup had been arranged long ago without her knowledge. "Brad!" she shouted. "Get over here!" The timid referee appeared at her side, as though he'd been waiting in the wings for her call. "Stay right here," she ordered.

"_Ladies and gentlemen of the WWE Universe," Paul announced, "you are all witnesses to a grand injustice- an injustice that has befallen upon the title reign of the best in the world, CM Punk." As Paul's speech unfolded Punk remained silent, sitting in his chair in the middle of the ring with a deadly glare aimed directly at the camera. "Therefore, at this time, I would like to summon out to this very ring the referee from last week's main event, Mr. Brad Maddox. Mr. Maddox, you will come out here right now, sir. You will apologize to the WWE champion. You will admit to your mistake, and then, sir, you will tender your resignation live tonight on RAW."_

Brad shook his head rapidly. "I don't want to go out there," he said, his eyes fixed pleadingly on AJ's. "I really don't."

"You don't have a choice," AJ snapped, glaring at him. "Go! Go now!"

"But they want me to resign!" he protested. "Do I really have to do that?"

"Just keep them talking," she said. "Until… until…"

"Until what?" he asked.

_Until I figure out what the hell I'm going to do, _she thought. "Just go!"

"_Hey, we have all night!" Paul said cheerfully. "I'm hanging with the WWE champion, the best in the world!" He folded his arms, glancing at his watch as he waited. _

_Brad took a deep breath as he exited the curtain, appearing at the top of the ramp. He could feel the heat in Paul and Punk's gazes as they turned to look at him. Rationally, he knew there wasn't much they could do to him- but that didn't stop him from being fearful of the power these two men held in the company they were all employed for. He proceeded down to the ring to an uproar from the Punk-supporting crowd, climbing up the steps slowly._

"_Inside the ring, Mr. Maddox," Paul prodded as Brad stepped onto the apron. "Inside the ring, sir."_

_With another gulp Brad ducked under the ropes, entering the cage with the beast. _

"_Everybody dreams of their big moment, kid," Paul told him. "This is yours." He held the microphone up to him._

"_Mr. Heyman," Brad began, "Mr. Punk… Uh… I made a mistake. It was my first main event match. I was nervous! I should've checked the ropes before completing my count. I feel terrible, and, uh…"_

"_All right," Paul said, nodding. "Very good. I applaud you for admitting your mistakes. You're right. Every referee knows to check the ropes. It's been in the rulebook since day one. You messed up. Now resign!"_

_Brad swallowed hard as the jeers from the crowd got louder. "I do apologize, but I don't feel-"_

"_I don't care what you feel, unless what you feel is ashamed!" Punk shouted, rising from his chair for the first time. Paul groaned, putting a hand on his forehead. "Because you should be ashamed! You embarrassed yourself. And more importantly, you embarrassed the WWE champion on my show." _

_Brad just looked down. He didn't know what to say. His heart was beating a mile a minute, threatening to rip out of his chest as the angry pair bore down on him. _

"_Who are you?" Punk demanded, his voice rising. "What's your name? How did you even get this job? How are you even employed? How do you look at yourself in the mirror? How do you stand up and walk down here and pretend to be a man?"_

AJ could only continue to watch in horror as Paul and Punk continued to berate Brad, parading him before the crowd as the hopeless spectacle that he was. _Come on, _she thought desperately. _Get it together. Think of something. _She had to stop this somehow.

"_You're the buffoon who got hired by the idiot general manager?" Punk snapped. The crowd howled back at him. "Yeah, that's right! If AJ was good at making decisions, she would come out here right now and she would fire you. And if she had a brain…"_

"I can't watch this anymore," she announced. "Get my music ready. I'm going out there."


	27. Chapter 27

Brad was grateful for the sound of AJ's music as it blared through the arena. Surely, she was here to rescue him. The three men in the ring turned to watch as the petite general manager skipped down the ramp, microphone in hand. She made a lap around the ring, smiling sweetly, although the thoughts running through her mind at the moment were anything but pleasant. She ducked through the ropes to join Brad, Paul, and Punk, still appearing cheerful.

"Thank you, Brad," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "You can go to the back now."

"Thank you," Brad mouthed. He quickly separated himself from the group, not daring to look back at them as he scurried out of the ring.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Paul said. "Madam General Manager! Welcome to your show. I'm assuming you're out here to reverse the decision from last week, and to correct the injustice that has befallen your WWE champion."

AJ flung her hair behind her shoulders, trying to bury the fury she felt beneath the surface. "Well," she replied, "when you _assume_, you kind of make an ass out of you and me… but mostly you." She could feel Punk glaring daggers at her as she spoke. "Yes, the referee made a mistake, but I am _not _about to let the two of you come out here, berate an official, and hold _my _show hostage." Her voice took on a low, dangerous tone as she moved closer to Paul. "Who the _hell _do you think you are?"

Paul could only stare at her in disbelief, groaning again as Punk pushed in front of him. "I'll tell you who _I _am," Punk snapped. "_I'm _the WWE champion!" He held up his title belt, as though this were a fact she had forgotten.

The crowd began to boo him; AJ just smiled sweetly, tilting her head. Punk was getting angry. Her silent acceptance was infuriating him. "No!" Punk shouted, dropping the belt in front of him. "_I _am the reason you have a job! When you walk to your mailbox every week and pick up that paycheck, it's because of _me_! I am the reason you are all in your seats here tonight! _Me_! Not anybody else!" He approached AJ, taking full advantage of their height difference as he craned his neck over her. "Don't you disrespect me!"

"Punk…" Paul warned.

"No, no, it's okay, Paul," Punk assured him, holding up his hand. "I know what this is about. I know why there's such hostility between me and you."

She was silent, staring at him. She couldn't possibly figure out what he was planning.

"I know," he continued, jabbing a finger inches from her face. "You know. Why don't we show _everybody _exactly why you have it out for me, AJ." He glanced at Paul, who smiled. _See? _Punk thought. _Have faith in me, buddy. I got this back on track. _He turned to the Titantron as footage of her 'marriage proposal' months earlier played; it was AJ's least favorite segment, and he knew that.

When the video finished, AJ turned around; Punk was standing over her, laughing wickedly at her. "Well," he said, mock seriousness coming over him, "there you have it. That's the reason, isn't it? That's the reason there's all this tension between me and you." He bent his knees so he was eye-level with her. "Is that the reason why you sent an incompetent referee out here to screw me last week?"

She glared at him angrily, but inside, she was still anxious. This couldn't have been all of it. That video, that was common knowledge in the WWE Universe. It had played out live. No, there was more. She knew there had to be. This wasn't all he was going to say.

"Tell you what," he continued. "You forget last week's match ever happened, and I'll forget that you used to show up to every Monday night RAW wearing my T-shirt. I'll forget the _hundreds _of text messages and voicemails that are not fit to air here on the USA Network that you would leave me."

Paul extended a warning hand; this was getting a little too ugly. But Punk didn't care, watching her horrified reaction with a glint in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, oozing fake remorse. "Am I embarrassing you? Well, please! Don't let me do all the talking. Why don't you let everybody know _exactly _how _intimate _me and you were behind closed doors."

_Biting her neck, bending her back over her desk as he tore at her clothes._

"Let them know that I'm the reason there's this little _skip _in your _step_."

_Throwing her onto his bed, kissing her roughly as she wrapped her legs around his waist._

"Tell them…"

_Making her moan, making her yell, making her cry his name as she begged for more._

His smile twisted into a devilish grin. "Tell them that I'm the best in the world."

Paul's arm shot out in front of Punk's chest. "Stop, stop, stop," he was saying. "She's gonna do something… She's gonna do something… She'll talk to the board of directors… Just stop, okay?" He was pushing Punk to the edge of the ring. "It's like we talked about on your DVD, with all these political orders… let me navigate this one, okay? Let me do this. I got this."

Paul turned back to AJ, whose cheeks were burning as she stood helplessly in the middle of the ring. "Madam General Manager," he said, "based on everything that I've seen here tonight…" He sank down to one knee; AJ raised her eyebrow, stepping back in shock. "Marry me, AJ!"

So this was how they were doing it. After humiliating her, they were going to toy with her even further. The rest of Paul's dramatic marriage proposal was lost on her; she could only watch over his shoulder as Punk laughed hysterically behind him, forcing the tears that were welling up in her eyes to stay back. She tilted her head as Paul extended his arms, motioning her forward.

A considering smile crept across her face as she stepped toward him. She raised her mic as though to say something. Paul smiled broadly at her, welcoming her into his open arms. But without warning, she reeled back and smacked him across the face. Punk dropped his mic and rushed to Paul's aid as his mentor fell back onto the canvas, both of them glaring angrily at AJ as she left the ring. She didn't make eye contact with anyone as she stormed up the ramp, her theme music playing her out.

In the ring, Punk was making a dramatic show of helping Paul back to his feet. They both appeared furious, although inside, Paul was grinning. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted… But Punk wasn't sure. Part of him thought he'd gone too far. But there was no turning back now.

AJ rushed past everyone in the back, running back to her office. Slamming the door behind her, she slid down to her knees and began to cry.


	28. Chapter 28

"That was great!" Paul cried, howling with laughter. "That- that was amazing, Punk. It was absolutely amazing. I've never seen such shame on another person's face!"

"Yeah, " Punk muttered, looking down as Paul gave him a congratulatory slap on the back. "Neither have I." He sat down on the nearest bench, nodding at regular intervals as Paul continued to babble. He tuned most of it out; he didn't feel anywhere near as proud of himself as Paul did, not by a long shot. It was the exact opposite. He couldn't get the image of AJ's painful, tortured expression out of his head.

"Look," he said finally, interrupting Paul's victory speech. "I… think we went a little too far. I don't think we should take digs at her anymore."

Paul's eyes widened at him. "Don't tell me you're going soft now," he said coolly.

"I'm not, I'm not," Punk assured him. "I just don't think destroying a girl's life is the best way to go about bringing change. It's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Paul echoed incredulously. "I'm losing you, kid. You're going soft on me now. Don't lose your edge now. You're hardened to the world! You're the best you've ever been! You're-"

"Best I've ever been?" Punk cried, standing up. "Look at me, Paul! I'm a mess! I'm not sleeping. I'm barely eating. I'm losing weight- I look like a fucking meth addict right now. I haven't spoken to any of my friends in weeks, and I'm pretty sure they're never going to forgive me after tonight."

"You don't need your friends," Paul snapped. "They're nothing to you. You're so much better than them, Punk. You're the pinnacle of wrestling. You don't-"

"Of course I need my friends!" Punk growled. "They're the ones who have been here for me, supporting me this whole time! I couldn't have gotten here without them."

"Or _me_," Paul reminded him, jabbing his index finger sharply at the champion's chest. "You never would have stepped foot in that locker room if it hadn't been for _me_. _I _got you in here, do you remember that? _I _paved the way for you. The rest of them, they thought you were a fucking joke until _I _put my word behind you. You would still be in the minor leagues wrestling in high school gyms for $20 if it wasn't for me, pal!"

"You think I don't know that?" Punk shot back threateningly. "You think I don't remember where I came from? I know everything you did for me, Paul, and I'll always be grateful for the opportunities you gave me and everything you've done for me. But this is _my _career. This is _my _championship reign. I still want to work with you, because I know you're the best at what you do, but we need to get a few things straight, all right? There will be _no more _messing with AJ. _I _will be making the judgment calls on how we do things from now on, you got that? And another thing: I'm tired of being alone. I'm gonna find out whoever the fuck submitted that complaint, beat the shit out of him, and make him withdraw it." He snatched his belt out of Paul's hands and stormed off.

"Careful, Punk!" Paul called after him. "Don't dig too deep. You might not like what you find!"

But he was already out of earshot. "Where's AJ?" he demanded of the first person he ran into. It took him a moment to realize the man whose path he had crossed was Alex Riley.

"Oh, hey, Punk!" Alex replied cheerfully. "Nice of you to acknowledge my existence, buddy. It's only been, I don't know, maybe three or four weeks since the last time you told me to fuck off. So tell me, why the fuck should I give you more than a tenth of a second of my time?"

Punk sighed, looking down. "All right, I deserve that," he answered. "Look, I'm sorry. Things have been… a little crazy lately. I've been acting weird, I know."

"You mean you've been a dick," Alex corrected.

Punk nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I've been a dick. And I'm sorry."

"As much as I appreciate it, I don't think I'm the one you need to be apologizing to right now," Alex pointed out.

Punk sighed again. "I know," he said. "That's why I'm trying to find her."

"That was harsh, man," Alex pointed out with a shake of his head. "She may have been fucking with you a little lately, but she didn't deserve that and you know it."

"I know, I know," he repeated. "I'm a colossal asshole. Thoroughly and completely. I admit it."

"And don't think we're the only ones," Alex added. "I can think of at least three other people who deserve a huge apology from you… especially the one with dreadlocks. He got so spoiled riding on your bus, man. He hates doing the rental car thing now."

"I will," Punk assured him. "AJ?"

"She ran back to her office crying," Alex reported.

"Fuck, she's crying?" He looked down. "Goddamn. I'm such an asshole. Thanks, Alex." He started to walk past him.

"Oh, Punk?" Alex called. "Just out of curiosity, how many more times were you planning on breaking up with her in the next few days? You know, just so I know how to plan out the rest of my week?"

Punk laughed. "You're a dick, Riley."

"Not as big as you!"

* * *

"AJ? Can I come in?"

AJ was curled up next to her desk, hugging her knees. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. "Go away," she mumbled. "I'm… I'm busy."

"Please?"

Now she recognized the voice calling to her. Furious, she got to her feet and went to the door. "How fucking dare you come anywhere near me!" she cried. She slammed the door with her fist.

"AJ, please," Punk begged. "I need to talk to you."

"After what you did?" she yelled. "Get out of here! I never want to see you again."

"I want to apologize. Please, just let me in. Let me in."

_Why should I? _she thought. _Why should I let him hurt me again? All he does is hurt me. _But deep down, she knew there was a part of her that still yearned for him. She wanted desperately to believe that this cruel person she'd seen for the past several weeks wasn't really him. She wanted to believe that the man she fell in love with was still in there. With a deep breath, she unlocked the door and let it swing open.

"You have thirty seconds," she said.


	29. Chapter 29

All the blood rushed to Punk's ears as he stepped into AJ's office, letting the door close behind him. He hadn't expected her to let him in, to hear him out. He had been bracing himself for harsh, ear-burning insults and to be cursed out of the building. He never dreamed he would be standing before her now as she tapped her foot impatiently.

"You're running out of time," she said icily, glancing at her watch.

He took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know what to say," he began hurriedly. "I went too far. I know that. I shouldn't have said any of that. I don't know if it was your idea for that Maddox kid to fuck up my match last week, but… I don't care. I deserved it. I've been a complete dick to you lately- to everyone. I just… If you can forgive me somehow, I can make it up to you. I'll fix everything, I promise. I-"

"Time's up," AJ announced. She placed both of her hands on Punk's chest, preparing to give him a rough shove out the door.

"Wait," Punk begged, backing up against the door. "AJ, please. You have to let me-"

"Your apology was weak," she cut him off flatly. "You humiliated me in front of the entire world. I don't _have _to let you do anything. Now get out of my office."

"Come on!"

She reached behind him to the door, turning the handle. Having been leaning against it, Punk fell back, crashing to the floor.

"Give me a chance," he pleaded, scrambling back to his feet.

"You're not worth a chance," she growled, slamming the door.

Punk stalked away to the locker room. He was completely numb, staring at the concrete floor in disbelief. How could he have screwed that up? It was his one opportunity to make things right, and he had blown it. Shaking his head, he buried his head in his hands until it was time for his segment with Mick Foley. He struggled to muster up the gusto and enthusiasm necessary to put on a convincing performance, but he came through, as usual.

But one of Mick's statements stuck with him: "_I was a Paul Heyman guy once, too. But I let him get into my head."_

* * *

"So, I saw you talking to Punk earlier," Kaitlyn said casually as she stepped into the elevator. "What did the asshole have to say now?"

Alex groaned as he jabbed the button for his floor with his index finger. "Must we resort to name-calling?" he asked.

"When it's concerning him?" she clarified. "Yes. He's a jerk and he made a bitch out of my best friend, who I haven't spoken to in… a month? Maybe more?"

Zack calmly silenced her building anger by draping his arm around her shoulders; he didn't want her to get started on a rant about AJ again, as he knew it still stung her quite a bit. "Whatever," he said. "What did he say?"

"Actually, he apologized," Alex admitted.

Kofi raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?" he asked.

Alex nodded. "Sincerely, too. I was a little stunned."

Kaitlyn was unconvinced. "So?" she asked, folding her arms. "I didn't see him apologizing to the rest of us for how he's been acting. "

"He was going to," Alex assured her, "but I told him to go talk to AJ first. Considering that he didn't come back to talk to me and he bolted after RAW, I think it's safe to say she didn't accept his apology."

"He's probably crushed and off sulking somewhere," Zack pointed out.

"Who cares?" Kofi growled as the elevator came to a halt at his floor. "I'm tired of his moody bullshit. I've been putting up with it longer than any of you." He sighed, grabbing his bag and going into the hallway. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, all right?" The doors closed.

* * *

Punk's music was blasting so loud, he didn't hear his phone ring. Had he not seen it light up out of the corner of his eye, he wouldn't have answered. Growling quietly, he yanked his headphones out of his ears as he completed one last sit-up. "This better be fucking important," he muttered, snatching his phone off the bed. His eyes widened at the caller's name.

"H-hello?" he managed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

There was a moment of silence. "Punk?" AJ's quiet, nervous voice came finally.

"Yeah?" he replied. "What's… what's up? I'm… kind of surprised you're calling."

The sound of her soft, feathery laughter made his knees shake. "So am I," she admitted. "But I need to talk to you, face-to-face. Can I come to your room?"

"Yes!" he blurted out quickly, silently cursing himself for sounding so eager. "Um, sure. Yeah. I'm in 628. On the 6th floor."

"I'll be there in ten minutes," she said, and hung up on him.

He was grateful for her delay; it gave him just enough time to shower and throw out the 8 or so empty cans of Pepsi that were strewn around his room. He was just grabbing his headphones off the floor when she knocked. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself before opening the door. He couldn't keep from staring at her, mouth slightly agape; he never thought he'd have the privilege of talking to her like this again.

"Can I… come in?" AJ asked with a small smile, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, sure," he said, stepping back. She walked beneath the arm he had braced across the entrance, and he closed the door behind her.

"So," she said, turning around to face him and clasping her hands together. "I feel like I was a little harsh on you earlier. I should have let you explain yourself instead of pushing you out like I did."

Punk allowed a wry smile to creep across his face. "Then can I finish?" he asked. She nodded, and he took another deep breath before continuing. "I was rushing earlier and didn't get the chance to really… explain." He sighed. "Look, AJ. I'll just come right out and say it. I miss you. I miss everything about you. I can barely sleep anymore because you're not next to me. I've been stupid lately- really stupid. I shouldn't have given up when we got that letter. I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have been so… scared. And I shouldn't have taken it all out on you." He groaned, scratching his neck and looking down. "I'm not good at this. I'm not good at apologies and explaining myself. But I hope what I'm saying is getting through to you at all."

Her eyes had remained fixed on him the whole time, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Are… are you saying… that you want to get back together?" she asked quietly.

"We would have to keep it a secret, at first," he said quickly. "We'd still have to act like we hate each other at work. At least until I find out whoever the hell submitted that 'complaint' and get him to withdraw it."

"But you're saying you want to get back together," she pressed.

"I am," he admitted. "I love you, all right? I've loved you since the first time I said it and I've never stopped loving you, this whole time. I want you by my side again. That is… if I'm worth being given that chance."

Tears were welling up in her eyes. She'd promised herself she wouldn't forgive him so easily, but hearing him speak so honestly and earnestly tore down her resolve. "I… I…" she whispered, shivering as he reached out to stroke her cheek.

"Just kiss me," he said.

She did. They left a trail of clothes to the bed.


	30. Chapter 30

"So what are you going to do?" AJ asked.

"Huh?" Punk frowned. "What do you mean?"

The newly reformed couple lay tangled in bed, a thin sheet draped over their resting bodies. AJ clung to Punk's side, resting comfortably in his arms as she traced her index finger idly across his tattoos. She sorely missed relaxing with him like this, listening to the steady, powerful beat of his heart as she lay her head on his chest. It made her feel lighter, as though all in her world was going to be okay from now on. She didn't want to disturb their newfound peace together, but she knew they needed to broach the subject sooner or later.

"Before we made up-" she started.

"You mean before we had incredible make-up sex?" he corrected helpfully.

She laughed. "Yes, before the incredible make-up sex," she said. She loved that he was in such a light mood, but she couldn't let it go. "You said you were going to find out who submitted that complaint letter and make him withdraw it. But how are you going to do that?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted after a pause. "I guess I'll just round up the usual suspects and go from there."

"But you'll never get anyone to admit it was them," she pointed out. "They're afraid of you. There's no way anyone would risk their ability to walk by coming clean."

"I know," he said. "I'll beat it out them if necessary."

"Just promise you'll be careful," she whispered, running her hand over his Straight Edge tattoo.

"I will," he assured her. "I promise."

* * *

The next morning, Punk was awake before AJ. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before slipping out of bed and getting dressed. He left a note on his pillow for her and silently left the room, heading down to the gym. He knew there was only one other person who would be there this early, and it was the one person he needed to talk to.

He found Kofi jogging on a treadmill, nodding his head intermittently to the beat of a song being blasted from his iPod. He didn't even hear Punk come into the room, nearly tripping when the heavily tattooed champion appeared in front of him.

"A little early to start your reign of terror, isn't it?" Kofi asked, plucking his headphones out of his ears. He didn't break his stride.

"That wasn't exactly what I was going for," Punk answered, leaning against the treadmill.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"This isn't easy," Punk said with a sigh.

Kofi rolled his eyes. "Here it comes," he muttered, moving to put his headphones back in.

"Come on, hear me out," Punk pleaded, catching Kofi's arm to stop him from tuning him out. "I know I've been a dick, okay? And you're probably the person who deserved it the least."

"_Probably_?" Kofi echoed with a laugh.

"All right," Punk conceded. "Definitely. Fuck, man. You know I hate this shit. You know what I mean. You're one of my best friends. My bus is really empty and quiet without you yelling at your computer while watching basketball."

Kofi couldn't help it; a smile crept across his face. "Aw, Punk, are you trying to get back together with your road wife?" he teased.

Punk laughed. "I'm not a fan of messy divorces, so yeah, I am," he answered. "Besides, how would we split the assets?"

"We couldn't," Kofi replied. "It would get pretty ugly. So, are you done being a douchebag?"

"To my friends? Yes. To whoever tried to rip apart my life? Not a chance."

"So I assume you're going after the infamous letter author," Kofi said. "Who's at the top of your hit list?"

"Bryan," Punk said flatly. "Definitely Bryan. If it's not him, well… I'll work my way through the roster. I'll go to everyone who hates me, one by one."

"That's a lot of people," Kofi reminded him.

Punk laughed. "I know. The next few weeks are going to suck… for everyone else."

The two spent the next hour jogging side-by-side on adjacent treadmills, laughing and taking digs at each other as they usually did. Before long, they were joined by Zack and Kaitlyn. Groaning, Punk knew he had two more apologies to go through. Zack was pretty receptive, as he'd expected, but Kaitlyn took much longer to win over. She still wasn't convinced that Punk was sincere, or that he would treat AJ well from now on.

"Give a chance to prove myself before you condemn me," Punk said.

"I did," Kaitlyn replied coolly. "And then you humiliated my best friend on national television and drove her away from me."

"Just give me one more chance! I'm tearing the roof off this time. I promise."

Kaitlyn bit her lip. "I don't know…" she muttered, studying Punk's eager expression.

"Come on," Zack urged her, kissing her cheek. "Double dates are lame when they're just Alex whining about the chick he couldn't pick up to come with us. Don't be such a killjoy. Look at that face!"

This got a chuckle out of her; Zack never failed to cheer her up and illicit a positive response. "All right," she relented. "_One _more chance. But don't screw it up."

"All right!" Punk cheered. "Awesome. Now that I've repaired most of my friendships, I can go on the warpath again."

"What can we do to help?" Zack asked. He despised the corporate intrigue as much as any of them.

Punk smiled. "Just sit back and try not to get in the line of fire."

* * *

Over the next week, Punk and AJ were careful to carry on in public as they had been in the past month. They booked separate hotel rooms (although they stayed together), and he dropped her off a mile or so from every arena so she could get a cab and arrive at the arena separately from him. Backstage, they ignored each other. To the world at large, it appeared as though they still held an intense, vile hatred for each other.

All the while, Punk formulated his plan to confront Daniel. He knew he had to be quick, quiet, and hard-hitting if he was going to get any information out of his rival. On Monday, he bade hello to Paul (who was still wary of the champion from their last confrontation) and went to the locker room, where he knew Daniel was alone. But before he could enter, AJ snagged his arm.

"Baby, wait," she said, pulling him back.

He glanced around furtively. "What are you doing?" he whispered. "You can't talk to me like that while we're here. What if someone sees us?"

"I just want to make sure that you're sure," she replied quietly. "If this goes wrong, if you hurt him… It could end really badly."

"Do I have any other choice?" he asked.

"We could just keep it a secret until they decide I shouldn't be the GM anymore," she suggested.

Punk shook his head. "That's not an option. I have to do this."

AJ nodded; she knew there was no talking him out of it. "Then be careful."

He glanced around again before kissing her quickly. "I will be." He entered the locker room, where Daniel was pulling his kick pads up over his boots. "Danny boy! Come here. We need to have a chat."


	31. Chapter 31

"What do you want?" Daniel growled, glancing up warily as Punk locked the door behind him.

"Exactly what I told you," Punk answered cheerfully. "We need to talk." He seized Daniel by the collar of his shirt, hauling him up off the bench and slamming him back against the concrete wall, hard.

"Hey, what the fuck is your problem?" Daniel cried, fighting against Punk's iron grip as the taller wrestler slid up the wall. His feet dangled helplessly several inches off the ground, kicking wildly in an attempt to get free. "Get off me, damn it! Let me go!"

"Calm down and stop squirming," Punk ordered, his voice low and dangerous. He pinned Daniel to the wall with his full body weight, taking advantage of their size difference to aid him in keeping the former World Heavyweight Champion from getting away. "I'm not letting you go until we have this conversation."

"Fuck you," Daniel spat.

Punk just smirked. "Your ex-fiancé sure did," he jeered. He watched with delight as Daniel's face contorted in rage. "Now pay attention, Goat Boy. You remember that little half-assed letter of complaint you sent to the board of directors about my relationship with AJ? You're going to withdraw it. Got it?"

"Letter of complaint?" Daniel echoed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid with me, Danny boy!" Punk snapped, easing Daniel off the wall a bit and slamming him back again. "You're pissed that your twisted little scheme to get her locked up didn't work, so you took it out on us to make sure we couldn't be together."

"I didn't write any letter!" Daniel insisted.

"Bullshit!" Punk tightened his grip on Daniel's shirt collar, twisting it around a few times.

"I may hate that conniving little bitch almost as much as I hate you," Daniel hissed, his voice becoming strained as the fabric around his neck tightened, "but I sure as hell didn't write any damn _letter_. I have better things to do with my time."

"_Tell me the truth_!" Punk slammed him down on the floor, planting his foot directly over Daniel's throat. He started to press down, eyes narrowing as Daniel flailed about wildly.

"It… wasn't… me!" Daniel gasped. "Let me… go! Let… me… go!" His face was turning red.

It was only then that Punk realized he was robbing Daniel of oxygen. Eyes widened in horror at what he was doing, he quickly retracted his foot and stepped back. Daniel scrambled away from him, gasping and wheezing as he tried to get his breath back.

"I trust you'll keep our little chat a secret," Punk said calmly, trying to regain his composure. "If you don't, I'll be back for you."

"You're crazy, Punk!" Daniel shouted, eyebrows knotted in rage. "You're fucking crazy!"

Punk just backed up to the door, quickly fumbling with the lock. He hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him and taking off through the back corridors of the arena. What the hell had he just done? What sort of uncontrollable rage had just come over him? He looked down at his hands as he walked; they were shaking slightly. He curled them into fists, locking them tightly to his sides.

_It doesn't matter, _he told himself. _He deserved it, anyway. I can't think about him now. If it wasn't him, I have to go the next person on my list._

* * *

During their first segment that night on RAW, AJ noticed that Punk and Daniel weren't making eye contact at all. They were putting on convincing performances, sure (as was Paul, who outwardly appeared undeterred by his previous confrontation with Punk), but both of them were avoiding each other's gazes. As soon as they made their way to the back, AJ purposely bumped into Punk as she passed by him.

"My office," she whispered. "Now."

He nodded almost imperceptibly. He waited patiently by the monitors for a moment until she disappeared so it didn't appear as though he was following her, and made his way to her private little corner of the arena. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I was going to ask _you _that," AJ replied, folding her arms as she looked up at him with concern. "You were acting really weird in the ring. So was Daniel. Why weren't you two looking at each other? At all?"

Punk sighed, looking down. In a hurried mumble, he told her what happened earlier in the locker room. The whole time she listened with a worsening expression.

"Punk!" she cried, putting a hand on his arm. "What the hell? You could have hurt him!"

"I know," he muttered shamefully.

"I hate him as much as you do-probably more-and I know you want to get to the bottom of this, but you can't just attack people like that!" Her eyes-those shining, golden brown eyes that always melted his heart-were locked to his. "What if he tells someone? This is really serious, baby. You could get fired!"

"He won't tell anyone," Punk assured her. "Don't worry."

"I _am _worried," she insisted. "I'm worried about you. I'm worried you're taking things too far."

"I'm not," he said. "I'm just doing what I have to do. I'm tired of people having control over aspects of my life that they should have absolutely no say in."

"I know you are," she whispered, leaning her head against his chest. "So am I. But I don't want you to risk losing everything just for revenge. What if you had really hurt him?"

"But I didn't," he reminded her. "Everything's fine."

"I'm not so sure," she said. "Will you be able to stop yourself with the next one?"

"Of course," he replied, forcing a smile. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair gently as she raised her arms to encircle his back. "I love you."

She couldn't help the smile that formed on her face. "I love you, too," she said. She remained in his embrace for a moment longer before pulling back to look up at him. "So you beat the hell out of Daniel and he still said it wasn't him. Who's next on your interrogation list, then?"

"That's easy," he answered. "Cena."


	32. Chapter 32

John was still at home recovering from his elbow surgery, so Punk wasn't able to conduct his second interrogation that night. In a way, he was glad; after nearly choking Daniel, he felt as though he needed the break. He needed to relax, to calm down and regain his bearings. So after the show ended, he went to a late dinner with Paul and caught a red-eye flight back to Chicago with AJ. The two of them had three glorious days of freedom, until Friday, and Punk intended to spend every second of their time off acting like a normal couple. It was a luxury they weren't able to take advantage of on the road.

"So how was your dinner with Heyman?" AJ asked as they exited the airport, wheeling their bags behind them. It was nearly 2 AM, and frigid air was whipping around them both. Shivering, she zipped her jacket up higher. Being from New Jersey, she was used to the cold, but the Chicago wind had an extra bite to it.

Punk shot her a smile and put his arm around her, pulling her closer to shield her from the wind. "It was fine," he answered, recalling how Paul had spent the first five minutes of their meal apologizing profusely for his behavior toward AJ. After that, their conversation had been largely directed toward what Creative would have in store for them next. "We went to Wendy's. It was the only thing open. Why? I thought you weren't a big fan of Paul."

"I don't really like him that much, after last week," she admitted as they reached the edge of the terminal entrance. "He never even apologized to me. But he's a big part of your life, and I know he helped you a lot at the beginning of your career, so I might as well try to get used to him."

His smile broadened and he kissed her forehead. "That's one of the reasons why I love you so much," he said. "A lot girls would pull that whole 'I hate him so you can't talk to him' bullshit. But not you. You try to deal with it."

She smiled back at him. "How are we getting to your house?" she asked, suddenly aware of how deserted the area was. "There aren't any cabs around."

He glanced down at his phone. "Our ride should be here soon," he assured her. As if on cue, a car pulled up in front of the terminal and stopped as it reached them. The driver rolled down the window and grinned at them.

"I didn't know you were bringing a date," Colt said. "Now I don't have a wingman."

Punk laughed. "Meet my idiot best friend and brother from another mother," he announced. "Pop the trunk, asshole."

Colt just shook his head. "Is that any way to talk to the man who's fetching your sorry ass from the airport at…" He glanced at radio clock. "1:58 AM?"

"Nice to meet you," AJ giggled as she slid into the backseat.

Colt took her hand and kissed it. "The pleasure's all mine," he replied with a purposely cheesy grin. "I hear you're pretty crazy." He winked, which only made AJ blush and giggle harder.

"Quit macking on my girlfriend," Punk called from outside the car. He hauled their bags into the trunk and slammed the lid shut before climbing into the passenger seat. "Home, Alfred."

Colt tipped his imaginary hat. "Yes, Master Wayne."

AJ couldn't help it; she was already laughing again. "Are you two always like this?" she asked as Colt pulled the car out of the terminal.

"Always," they answered at the same time.

AJ sat back and listened to the two men banter all the way to Punk's house, grinning ear to ear the whole time. She hadn't been this happy and relaxed in weeks; she missed feeling this way. She hoped it was a sign of good things to come.

The drive was short; this late, there was almost no traffic. Colt drove them to a relatively suburban neighborhood and pulled into a driveway. "Home sweet home," he announced, shutting off the car. "Now get the fuck out so I can go home and sleep. I'm sure the two of you have better things then sit in my car, anyway."

"I can think of a few things I'd rather do," Punk agreed with a wink. They bade a good night to Colt and wheeled their bags inside.

"Wow," AJ said, looking around the entranceway as Punk shut the door behind them. "So this is where you live, huh?"

"It's not much, but its home," Punk replied. He turned on the light and set their bags down.

"It's so… you." She gestured to one of the framed posters in his living room- a montage of an assortment of Marvel characters. She turned to him and smiled. "It's exactly what I expected."

He smiled back. "Good," he said. "I'm glad you like it." He unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the couch, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She quickly kissed him back, shivering slightly as his hands came to rest on the small of her back.

"Baby…" she whispered, tilting her head to the side slightly as he worked his way down her neck. "I'm pretty tired." She bit her lower lip to stifle a moan.

"Aw, come on," he muttered between kisses, unzipping her jacket and slowly working it off her shoulders. "I just got a new bed a couple of months ago. It needs to be… christened."

She laughed. "But I haven't showered yet," she protested. "And neither have you."

"We can christen my shower, too." He kicked out of his shoes and picked her up. "Come on." She laughed into his neck as he carried her up the stairs.

It felt a little strange to Punk at first to have AJ in his house. He hadn't brought a girl home since breaking up with Amy (again); having a woman he wasn't related to in his little fortress solitude again would take a little getting used to. But as he set her down in his bedroom, he was surprised at how quickly he was growing accustomed to her presence in his home. It felt… natural. It felt right.

"What's wrong?" AJ asked quietly, sitting down on the bed as she took off her shoes.

He smiled. "I just like the way you look in my room," he answered, pulling her up and into his embrace.

She smiled back and took off his hat, setting it down on the dresser. "I like the way I look in your room, too," she said, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. "Now… how about that shower?"

"You read my mind," he replied. He raised his arms so she could take his shirt off, chuckling as she then turned her attention to his belt buckle. "See, there's another thing I love about you. Just a few minutes ago you were 'too tired', and now you're undressing me."

"Go turn on the shower," she ordered with a giggle. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Ooh, ordering me around, now," he said, winking. "I like that." He smirked and went into the bathroom, shedding the last of his clothing before sliding the glass door to his shower open and turning it on. The bathroom was filled with steam in minutes. He was standing under the hot water, eyes closed as the day's stress washed off his body, when he heard the door open beside him. He felt her hands slide around his waist, her cheek pressing gently against his back. Smiling, he opened his eyes and turned around.

"Mm, the hot water feels amazing," she muttered. "Why have we never tried this before?"

He was still grinning at her. "Took me awhile to get more creative," he replied. "Come here." He pulled her against him and kissed her, running his hands all the way down her back. She was immediately lost in his touch, as always, shivering as the cool metal of his lip ring brushed against her warm skin. He tilted her head back to get access to her neck. She hissed sharply as his teeth dug into her collarbone.

"You really love to bite," she gasped.

"Can't help it," he murmured against her skin. "I love the way you taste." He pushed her back against the tile wall, guiding his tongue around her chest. He was completely unforgiving, sucking hard at her nipples. Her moans filled the shower; he couldn't help but grin. He loved hearing her enjoy herself.

The let up in his attack gave her the time to return the favor. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking him hard and fast. He groaned, bracing himself against the wall; she never failed to make his knees go weak. No other woman had ever been able to make him feel what she did. He didn't know how she did it. She was so sweet and inexperienced, and yet somehow, when she was with him, she managed to make him see stars.

He pulled her forward, turning them around so he took her place against the wall. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor of the shower, leaning against the wall and waving her toward him.

She looked down at him, unsure. "I've… never done that before," she whispered.

"You'll be fine," he assured her. His eyes were fixed on her, filled with lust. "Trust me." She nodded and slowly lowered herself down onto him; both of them gasped quietly. "Now just start moving." He put his hands on her hips to help her, rocking them in a circular motion. She rolled her head back and moaned; he was still going slowly, and already she felt like she was reaching her peak. Before long, she didn't need his help anymore, and was slamming herself down on him as she held onto his shoulders.

"Fast learner," he muttered. He bit his lip. "Oh, fuck. You-" The rest of his words were lost in his moan, his eyes shutting as he felt her closing tightly around him. She breathed his name into his ear, falling forward against his chest. Her hips continued to move as she rode it out, just long enough for him to finish and growl her name.

"You know," he remarked, his breath still ragged, "it's hard to believe you were a virgin just a few months ago."

She laughed, blushing. "What can I say," she replied. "You brought out the… wild girl in me."

He kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." She paused. "We're going to be okay, right?"

"Of course we are," he answered firmly. "I'll make sure of it."

**Author's note: I decided our dear couple needed a bit of a break to relax. They've gone through so much stress and heartbreak lately!**


	33. Chapter 33

Punk spent his days off with AJ trying to get her to relax. He took her out to eat, brought her to meet his sisters (a meeting that, much to AJ's relief, went perfectly; they loved her), watched all of the Avengers series films, played video games in which he lost constantly, and went to the movies with Colt. They steadfastly abstained from talking about work; Punk didn't want her to have to think about it, and did his best to keep her from stressing out about what she thought he may do next.

On Friday morning, they were back at the airport. They took the same flight to California, but took separate cabs to the arena for the night's house show. There, Punk would reunite with Kofi and his bus, and AJ would go back to travelling with Kaitlyn, Zack, and Alex. After spending three days being able to kiss whenever they wanted, holding hands and talking in the open, it was hard to go back to pretending to absolutely loathe each other. Kofi understood how tense this made his friend, and tried to keep Punk in good spirits.

"This whole thing will be over before you know it," Kofi assured him as they sat in the locker room. "Once you get through your 'list' and find out who did this, you can go back to normal."

Punk just sighed, pulling on his kick pads. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?" he replied. He forced a smile, knowing Kofi was trying his best to cheer him up. "You just want a formidable opponent to play you in Street Fighter when we're on the road. You're tired of me sucking."

"Yeah, AJ sure puts up a challenge," Kofi agreed.

The weekend passed with the usual round of house shows and traveling, and Punk was growing increasingly anxious as Monday drew nearer. John was still absent as he tried to recover, but he had promised to make an appearance on RAW, so Punk knew he was going to be there. He couldn't quite get to the root of his nervousness. He wasn't afraid of John. He wasn't afraid of anything. So why did he have a pit growing in his stomach?

He chanced riding to Sacramento with AJ, needing her by his side to encourage him; this time, she was the one who was reassuring him. "Everything will be fine," she told him. "As long as you keep control of yourself and don't let him weasel out of your questions, it'll go smoothly."

"But what if it's not him?" he pressed.

"Then you'll move on to the next one." She kissed him.

They dropped her off a few blocks from the arena so she would arrive alone, several minutes after Kofi and Punk. He quickly went to change into his ring gear, and as he stepped out of the locker room, he was ambushed by Paul.

"Still going through with your little plan?" his mentor asked casually.

Punk nodded. "Don't try to talk me out of it," he said firmly.

"I would never dream of it," Paul assured him, holding up his hands. "I just wanted to suggest that you do it _before _the show as opposed to _after_."

"Why?" Punk asked, frowning.

"Well, you know we have that whole deal with Vince tonight," Paul reminded him. "You're getting your ass kicked. You'll be tired and John may even have left by then. I think it would be best to take advantage of the pre-show activity lull and track him down now."

Punk raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "You're actually behind me on this," he said, receiving an approving nod from Paul. "And you're suggesting I go talk to him now?"

"Sure!" Paul smiled. "You've got to do what you've got to do, champ. If tearing through the roster to get your girl is what's going to make you happy, far be it from me to stop you. Go on. I think I saw Mr. Cancer Awareness near catering."

"Thanks, Paul." He smiled back genuinely and stalked off to find WWE's resident front man. He discovered John just where Paul had told him he would be, grabbing an apple from a tray of assorted fruits and taking a large bite. "Hey there, John Boy. Follow me for a second, will you? We need to have a little chat."

John glanced up, swallowing his bite of apple and smiling broadly. "Hey, Punk, how are you?" he asked cheerfully. "My elbow's doing fine, thanks for asking. I'm not sure if it will be fully healed in time for the pay-per-view, but I'm working hard in physical therapy, so-"

"I don't have time for your spiel, Superman," Punk said flatly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Put down your snack and come with me. It's important."

John raised his eyebrows but did as he was asked, tossing his half-eaten apple in a nearby trashcan and turning to follow Punk through the winding hallways of the arena. "So why do we have to go all Kane style and talk near the boiler room?" he asked as they came to a stop.

"I want to be away from prying eyes and ears," Punk answered. He folded his arms, taking a deep breath as he tried to remind himself to stay calm. "I'm going to be straight with you. I want you to tell me the truth. Were you the one who wrote the letter?"

John raised his eyebrows again. "What letter?" he asked.

Punk rolled his eyes. _This again,_ he thought. "The complaint letter to the board that _someone _wrote about my relationship with AJ," he explained impatiently. "You know, the one that forced us to break up. You remember, right? Considering you wrote it, probably with the help of spell check…"

John howled with laughter. "Punk, do you really think I give a shit about who you're dating?" he asked. "As long as whatever you're doing on your off time doesn't affect what you're doing on your on time, I could care less about your personal life."

"That's bullshit," Punk growled, feeling his anger rising. "You seem to be deeply invested in just about everyone's lives lately. Just tell me the fucking truth, John, and withdraw your bullshit letter so I can go on with my life."

"Why do you think that _I _would want to ruin your relationship?" John pressed. "Come on, Punk. I know we're not best pals, but we've always been able to work together without a problem, and I definitely don't have anything against AJ. She's a good kid. Why do you think it was me?"

"Maybe because you're pissed your strap isn't home safe with you, so you want to rattle me so they'll take it off me!" Punk snapped. "I don't care what your reasoning is. I'm rounding up the list of usual suspects so I can-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," John advised, putting up his hands defensively. "Put away the conspiracy theories, buddy. I don't know who has it out for you, but it's sure as hell not me. What about Daniel?"

"Been down that road," Punk said stiffly. "Wasn't him. Stop deflecting and tell me the truth!"

"I _am _telling you the truth, you asshole!" John shot back. "Listen to yourself! You're accusing _me_, of all people, of trying to fuck with your life. I don't have time do something like that, even if I wanted to. I'm busy working my ass off so I can be ready to throw you against a cage for half an hour instead of Ryback. Cool it, Punk. Why don't you go find someone who actually has a reason to do what you're trying to pin on me?" Shaking his head, he pushed past Punk and stormed off. He left the champion alone, confused and with more questions than answers.


	34. Chapter 34

Punk was numb for the rest of the night, so much so that he didn't even enjoy his battle with Vince as much as he'd wanted to. Under normal circumstances, he would have reveled in the beauty of his profession- what other job allowed you to do massive amounts of physical damage to your boss? But the 'match' passed by on autopilot, and before he knew it he was hobbling to the back. His ribs ached; Vince had struck him sharply with the Kendo stick. Punk was glad for the pain, as it helped keep John's words off his mind.

They didn't stay away for long. His conversation with John had resonated deeply with him; as much as he hated to admit it to himself, John was right. Here he was, intent on tearing through the roster on his mission to restore justice to his life, and he was going in the wrong direction. He needed to get back on track. He needed to _think_. It wasn't Daniel, and it wasn't John. Who else around here did he have a bone of contention with?

He tried to focus on dragging himself back to the locker room. The area was mostly empty; it appeared that everyone who wasn't glued to the monitors watching the post-broadcast dark match (or involved in it) had already left. He had just reached the door when he felt a small hand graze his back. He couldn't help but smile; he knew that touch anywhere. "Hey," he said. "Were you watching?"

AJ smiled back. "Of course," she replied. "I wouldn't miss it." She giggled. "I wish I could beat up our boss like that." Her expression softened, and she reached out to cup his cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"I've had better days," he answered. "Vince may be 64, but he's no chump."

"That's not what I was talking about," she said quietly.

"I know," he admitted with a sigh.

"It didn't go well, did it?"

He shook his head. "Not really. He… really put some things in perspective for me. I think I've been going about this the wrong way."

"So maybe talking to John helped," she suggested.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging. "I just want to change, go back to the hotel, shower, and fall asleep next to you."

"Sounds good to me," she said with a smile. She leaned in to kiss him, her lips pressing gently against his. As always, kissing her eased both his nerves and his pain. It made him feel as though everything was going to be just fine. "So I'll see you back at the hotel?"

"Always," he replied. "I just have to change. Kofi rode back with Zack, so I don't have to wait for him. I'll be there soon." He kissed her once more before they separated, and he entered the locker room. It was empty but for a few bags. He quickly collected his own, stripping out of his ring gear in favor of the street clothes he'd arrived in. He would shower later, in the comfort of his own hotel room. He didn't like locker room showers, anyway.

Putting on his hat, he shouldered his duffel bag and went back into the hallway. Just as he turned the corner, however, he ran almost full-speed into another person. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry," he said quickly, backing up. "I-" He paused, finally seeing just who he'd crashed into. "Huh. Maybe I shouldn't have apologized."

"Ooh, that hurt," Beth said sarcastically, shaking her head. "Is that any way to treat a woman?"

"Normally?" Punk asked. "No. But the one who acted like a complete douchebag, never really cared about me, and only dated me to have a boyfriend and further her own career?" He smiled. "You see where I'm going with this."

Beth smiled back, unfazed. "I also see where you're going with AJ," she said coolly. "You moved on pretty quickly from Amy, didn't you? Just like you moved on quickly from me to her."

His heart skipped a beat. "We're not together anymore," he shot back coldly, trying to keep his composure. "Why do you care, anyway? It's none of your business."

"That's cute," she said sweetly. "You're such a good liar. If I hadn't seen you kissing her just a few minutes ago, I may have even believed you."

His eyes widened. She'd seen them! But how? No one was around; he didn't even know she was going to be there that night. "Bullshit," he said quickly, calling her bluff.

"Oh?" she questioned. "So you weren't just about to go into the locker room when she came up and put her hand on your cheek? You didn't talk about your 'match' with Vince, talking to John, and going back to your hotel room with her before she kissed you?"

He fixed her with an icy glare. "I don't know what you think you saw," he hissed through gritted teeth, "but you're wrong. I didn't kiss her and we're not together."

"So defensive," she teased cruelly. "Calm down, Punk. I don't care about your 'love life'. I was just making an observation."

_I do need to calm down, _he thought. _She's just being a bitch. She probably doesn't even know about the letter. _"Whatever," he growled. "Watch where the fuck you're going next time." He adjusted his bag before brushing past her, storming out of the arena and heading to his bus.

"Let's go," he told the driver hurriedly. "Kofi already left."

"But what about-"

"She left, too," Punk cut him off quickly. "Come on. I just need to get out of here."

* * *

AJ was awaiting Punk's arrival eagerly. She'd already gotten him room service, and was playing her old school Gameboy to pass the time. She knew his conversation with John hadn't gone the way he'd expected, but she had hope that it would help him; she knew how desperately he wanted to get to the bottom of the conspiracy to keep them apart. But secretly, she didn't even care whether he found out or not. Although the secrecy was hard on both of them, she would gladly spend the rest of her career stealing kisses in maintenance closets and booking separate hotel rooms if that was what it took to be with him. It didn't matter, as long they could be together.

It was past midnight when he finally burst into the room. She put her game down and quickly sprang off the bed, running to greet him. "I got you dinner," she announced proudly. It was only as she took his bag from him and set it down when she noticed his ashen expression, and frowned. "What's wrong, baby?" She reached to stroke his cheek.

"Someone knows," he said miserably, looking down.

She froze. "Who?" she asked quietly. "Tell me. Who knows?"

He raised his head slowly to look at her, his hat casting a shadow over his face. "Beth."


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's note: Sorry this one is so dialogue-heavy! But it needed to be done to move things along. Enjoy!**

AJ felt a painful sensation brewing in her stomach. "How?" she managed to squeak out, her voice catching in her throat. She was already pacing the room, hands clasped together nervously. "How could she know? How did she find out? I didn't see her the entire night! I didn't even know she was there!" Her head was spinning; this was bad. This was _very _bad. Beth absolutely _hated _AJ. The two divas had never been very keen on each other before, as Beth had always regarded AJ as an immature, inexperienced, unworthy competitor. When the younger wrestler had begun dating her ex-boyfriend, Beth's general dislike had turned into utter loathing.

"She saw us," Punk explained quietly, removing his hat. He placed on the table, next to the plate of food that would most likely remain untouched. He had no appetite now. "Earlier, when we were by the locker room door. I don't know how, but she must have been hiding somewhere and saw us."

"Are you sure?" AJ pressed, her eyes locking pleadingly with his. "You know how she is. Maybe she's just messing with you. You know, to get inside your head."

He shook his head sadly. "She gave me a very detailed description of what happened," he answered. He sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, kicking off his shoes carelessly. "She heard everything we said, too."

Tears were welling up in her eyes. "She'll tell," she whispered, wringing the bottom of her T-shirt between her hands. "I know she will. She hates us. She hates _me_. She'll tell and I'll be done." She was pacing more quickly now, the tears starting to drip down her cheeks. "You might get a small fine or something, because you're the champion and your contract is iron-clad and there's no way they could fire you, but _me_? I'm just a diva! I may be the 'general manager', but I'm expendable! They'll… they'll fire me! I'm going to lose my job, Punk! I'm going to-"

"Hey, hey," he silenced her, getting up to stop her in her tracks. "None of that is going to happen." He gathered her into his embrace, stroking her hair gently. "Calm down. I'm not going to let you lose your job, okay? I'm going to take care of it."

"How?" she cried, twisting her head to look up at him. Her chin poked at his chest. "That's what you said before, and look at what happened! Your little quest to find the person behind the letter could ruin everything! Look at the mess we're in now! What if she-" She paused, a sudden realization coming crashing down on her. "Baby, what if it was her?"

He held her out at arm's length so he could look at her more properly. "What do you mean?" he asked with a slight frown.

"What if it's been her, this whole time?" she asked. "What if she wrote the letter?"

"What?" He blinked. "Her? But… why? I know she hates our guts and all, but why would she even bother? Other than tonight, I've barely even seen her."

"Think about it," she urged. "What other enemies do you have? Randy isn't your biggest fan, but the two of you hardly even speak anymore. Eve doesn't like me much, but I'm pretty sure she's too afraid of you to actually do anything to me. The only person who actually makes any sense is Daniel, and you nearly killed him and he still didn't own up to it. Come on. Who else could it be?"

"But isn't she dating Edge now?" he pointed out. "Why would she even care?"

"Just because she's with someone else now doesn't mean she's moved on and let go of her anger toward you," she reminded him. "Didn't you tell me once that you think she only dated you for 'status', anyway? When you found out and broke up with her, she lost that status. That probably still burns her. And she's always hated me, because I'm younger and didn't spend nearly as much time in the indies or in developmental before they moved me up to the main roster."

He sighed heavily, moving away from her to sit down on the bed again. "Fuck," he muttered, massaging his temples. "It makes a lot of sense, when you put it that way. But then…" He groaned. "That makes things even worse. If she's out to get us, then it's only a matter of time before she either tells someone or tries to blackmail us. My only tactic is physical intimidation, and I can't very well use that on her."

"But I can," AJ piped up.

"Absolutely not," Punk said firmly. "No way. I'm not putting you in danger."

"What, you think I can't take her?" she snapped.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," he replied quickly. "I don't doubt your strength, but all the strength in the world won't make up for the fact that she has half a foot and fifty pounds on you. She's also a lot less… inhibited than you are. She's not afraid to step on toes. She'd really hurt you. Not to mention you're her boss! Getting into it with her could get you fired just as fast as our relationship."

"Then if I can't fight her and you can't choke her into admitting it and withdrawing it, then what are we supposed to do?" She wrenched out of his grasp and started pacing the room again. "I can't handle this, Punk. This is insane. My job is in jeopardy for the stupidest reason I can think of, and it's all because of your bitter ex-girlfriend!" She crumpled onto the bed in tears.

"Baby…" he groaned. He swallowed hard, trying to bury his anger for her sake. He sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms. He rubbed her back gently. "I'm sorry, baby. This is all my fault. I… I should have been more careful. I shouldn't have let her see us."

"It's not your fault," she sobbed. "It's her fault. I'm going to fucking kill her. I'll beat her stupid little head in. I'll cut off her hair and-"

"Shhh," he cut her off, kissing her forehead. "I'll… I'll do something. I'll take care of it. Somehow."

"How?" she demanded, looking up at him tearfully.

"I'll talk to her," he suggested.

"She can't be reasoned with!" she cried. "That's not going to work!"

"Do we have any other option?" he asked.

"Not really," she whispered. "But I hate that it always has to be you who takes care of me. I'm never able to solve any of our problems. I'm just… I'm helpless!"

"That's not true! It just so happens that most of our problems are usually created by me, so I have to solve them."

"But this one wasn't your fault," she pressed.

"Doesn't matter. I'm the man. It's my job."

This finally got a smile out of her. "Sexist," she teased.

"Just sexy," he corrected. "Come on. Let's go to bed. I think tomorrow is going to be a long day."


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's note: 2 in one day? I'm on a roll LOL! **

Because Punk and AJ were rarely on Smackdown anymore, Punk's bus driver was confused when he asked to be driven to San Jose. "We'll head out to the city for Wednesday's house show after," he explained. "I have some stuff to take care of. Plus, we have to pick up Kofi." The driver accepted this explanation with a mere nod; it wasn't his job to ask questions. They left early in the morning, and after a few stops they'd arrived at the arena in the early afternoon.

"What should I do?" AJ asked. She was nervous; she didn't like this idea.

"Just stay on the bus," Punk told her. "No one knows you're here and it should stay that way. I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

"When can we leave? I just want to get out of here." Her leg was bouncing up and down incessantly.

"As soon as Kofi's done getting beaten up by Big Show in the fifth or sixth segment," he assured her. "So probably around 9:30 or so."

AJ frowned. "I have to stay here that long?" she whined. "What will I do?"

"You have your Gameboy, don't you?" he asked.

"That's true," she agreed, grabbing it from the table. She was about halfway through her thousandth replay of Pokémon Blue version. It would serve to keep her occupied for now, but she wasn't sure it would be able to distract her mind from the terrible possibilities for long. "Just… be careful, okay?"

"Always," he promised. He leaned over to kiss her before grabbing his hat and pulling it down over his head. With one more nod to her, he ducked out of the bus and locked the door behind him.

As he proceeded into the arena, Punk wasn't sure what he was going to say to Beth. He'd been thinking about it all night, as he lay hopelessly awake with AJ in his arms, but nothing that sounded even remotely good came to him. He couldn't very well physically threaten or intimidate her- he didn't hit women, period. It was one of the many principles he lived by, even if she did deserve it. He couldn't threaten her job, either. While he did have a decent amount of pull around the office, his influence didn't extend much further than his own treatment, and contracts were contracts. Everyone had one, and no amount of his whining or demands would get them to release Beth if they didn't want to.

He was still going over possibilities in his head when he rounded the corner to the diva's locker room, nearly crashing right into Beth for the second time. He backed up quickly to avoid a collision, taking a deep breath as he looked around them furtively. There was no one nearby. "We need to talk," he said gruffly.

"Ooh, twice in one week," Beth teased. "To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to my favorite punk so often? My birthday isn't coming up, is it?"

"Cut the bullshit," he growled. "We need to talk. Somewhere private, where we won't be interrupted." His heart was thudding rapidly; he was making it up as he went along now.

"Aw, Punk, is it just like old times?" she asked. "Need to get laid before a show, so you pull me into an isolated little corner and-"

"Not even if I was dying and you were the only woman in a thousand mile radius," he snapped, knots forming in his stomach with every word. "Come on." He walked past her, not even looking back to see if she was following; he knew her well enough to know she would be too intrigued to pass this up. He led them back to the boiler room, turning around to face her with folded arms.

"Okay, so what's this about?" Beth asked, yawning.

"I know you wrote the letter," he replied stiffly.

She laughed. "What letter?"

"I'm not doing this again!" he shouted, slamming his hand against one of the water tanks so hard that she jumped a little. "Tell me the fucking truth!"

She laughed again, quickly regaining her composure. "So what?" she asked. "What are you going to do about it?" She smiled. "I thought using your full names was a nice touch, don't you think? Really drove the point home."

He felt his chest tighten; AJ had been right. It was her. "Why?" he demanded. "What have I done to you? Why are you trying to ruin our lives and careers?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Remember last year, after your little 'pipe bomb', when I suddenly got the Diva's championship for the very first time?" she asked coldly, her icy blue eyes locking with his. "And then after we broke up in December, I was suddenly absent from TV most of the time? Remember when I had a bullshit 'feud' with some TV host as my Wrestlemania match? And then remember when they took the title from me with absolutely no explanation and gave it to one of those stupid twins before they left? Remember how, since then, I've barely wrestled at all?" She'd been walking toward him slowly the whole time, and now jabbed her index finger at his chest. "_That's _why I did it, you son of a bitch."

Punk stepped away from her, appalled. "_That's _why you're doing this?" he cried incredulously. "You're attacking my personal life and an innocent girl's entire career because of things that have absolutely nothing to do with us?"

"It has _everything _to do with you!" she shot back hotly. "When I wasn't connected with you, I wasn't important anymore because they didn't need to keep me happy to keep you happy! Not to mention that _little girl _you and Bryan have been banging has been in the main event scene for the past year, and she's done _nothing _to earn it, Punk! Not a single thing!"

"And none of that is my fault!" he shouted. "If you don't like it, then do something about it or fucking leave! Don't drag us down with you!"

"Too late for that," she said, with a sickly sweet smile.

"What do you want from me?" he demanded. "What the fuck do you want from me, Beth? Do you want to fuck me again? I don't think your new boyfriend would like that very much, don't you?"

"That's sweet of you to offer, but I'm happy with him," she informed him.

"I wasn't _offering _anything," he growled. He couldn't believe this was happening. Her misplaced anger was threatening to ruin everything he and AJ had worked so hard for.

"But now that you mention it," she continued, ignoring his last statement, "I do have a friend who has a little crush on you and she's just been _dying _for a chance with you. Why don't you give her a shot?" She was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're insane!" he yelled, eyes widening with rage. "You're completely fucking insane! I'm not doing anything like that! You're blackmailing me, you crazy bitch!"

"I'll let that remark slide," she said coolly. "Looks like you have a choice to make, _darling_. Either you spend a night with my friend, or I show Hunter the pictures I took of you and your kid sister by the locker room yesterday."

"Who the fuck are you making these sick plans with, anyway?" he snapped. He could barely find the strength to keep standing; it felt like the walls were about to crash down around him.

"Eve," she answered sweetly. "We're all on the road all week, so you have a few more days to decide." She smiled again. "Don't worry, Punk. Just do what I say and this will all work out just fine for your girl." With a teasing stroke of his cheek, she turned away and marched out. She left him in the boiler room, completely broken and helpless.


	37. Chapter 37

Punk didn't return to the bus right away. He stayed in the boiler room for a long time, holding his knees as he sat against the wall. He tried several times to stand, but couldn't muster up the strength. It felt as though all the blood had drained from his body. How could this be happening? How could that evil, conniving bitch get away with blackmailing him like this? How could all of this have culminated with two equally devastating options? Sleep with his ex's best friend, or watch his girlfriend's career go up in flames.

He wasn't sure how long he remained in that dark, damp room. But eventually he managed to pull himself up off the floor and stalk out of the arena, slipping out unnoticed. What would he say to AJ? He couldn't tell her. He _couldn't_! It would kill her. He had to think of a plausible fib. As he fumbled with his key to unlock the bus, he quickly tried to come with something to say. He knew there was no way she would just accept that he didn't want to talk about it.

As he predicted, AJ jumped off the couch as soon as he stepped onto the bus. Putting her Gameboy down, she hurried to the door and threw her arms around his neck. "I was so worried!" she cried as he closed the door behind him. "You were gone for almost three hours! What took so long?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied casually, moving away from the door so they had more space. "I just hung out in the locker room for awhile talking to people. I lost track of time."

"Well, what happened?" she pressed, biting her bottom lip nervously. "Tell me!"

Punk sat down on the couch, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. He still had absolutely no idea what to say to her. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "she's withdrawing it."

A giddy smile appeared on her face. "Really?" she whispered, eyes glittering with tears.

_Fuck! _Punk cursed himself. _I can't believe I just said that! _How would he get out of this now? He couldn't very well backtrack; he had to go along with it. "Yeah," he said, forcing a broad smile.

"That means we can do whatever we want now!" she cried happily.

"No no, not yet!" he said quickly. "We can't."

"Why not?" she asked, frowning.

"Because she won't have a chance to talk to Hunter until next week," he said. "So we… have lay low until then."

To his surprise, she nodded, accepting this. "Okay," she said. "No problem. After what we've been through, I think we can handle a little while longer of sneaking around." She smiled and kissed him. "By this time next week, I'll be able to walk into the locker room, sit on your lap, give you a big kiss, and no one will be able to say anything about it."

He smiled and kissed her back, but inside, his stomach was churning. _I hope you still love me by this time next week,_ he thought.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Punk became increasingly distant, and not just to AJ- to everyone. He barely spoke to Kofi, declining to play videogames with him. When they met up with Zack, Kaitlyn, and Alex at rest stops, he didn't eat, often staring out the window as the rest of the gang laughed and bantered. At night, he was restless. He tossed and turned for hours, unable to sleep. Whenever AJ tried to initiate anything intimate he rolled away from her, apologizing and telling her he wasn't in the mood.

He knew it was wrong of him to push her away like this, but he couldn't help it. He was far too deeply engrossed in his own thoughts, wrestling with his own conscience as he struggled with his decision. After going over it in his head hundreds of times, he knew there was no way out of making a choice, one way or the other- if he went to Hunter with news of Beth's plan to blackmail him, not only would she deny it (he had no evidence, after all), but she would also present her evidence of he and AJ's continued relationship. She would be fired on the spot. If he got AJ and Kaitlyn together to strong-arm Beth, she would just go Hunter as soon as they released her. He had to make a decision, one way or the other. But what could he do? The choice was impossible.

Beth's constant text messages didn't help- she kept reinforcing his thoughts there was no way out of making a choice. 'If you tell anyone, your little girlfriend will lose her job,' she would say. 'If you don't give me an answer by Friday, I'm going to Hunter.' It completely robbed him of any hope of getting out of this.

He spent a lot of time watching AJ. The way her eyes sparkled when she came skipping back from the ring, the excitement on her face as she waited at the gorilla, the fervor with which she spoke into the microphone. She loved this job. She was living her dream. How could he take that away from her?

* * *

AJ was so happy about the recent turn of events, it took her a little while to notice how strangely Punk had been acting. But by Thursday night, she was beginning to detect how tense he was. As he was changing into shorts to go to sleep, she lay back on the bed and watched him curiously. "Baby, are you all right?" she asked.

He glanced at her from the side of the room, where he was pulling his phone charger out of his bag. "Of course," he answered hesitantly, crossing the room to the bed. He plugged in the charger and his phone and sat down. "Why do you ask?"

"You've just been acting a little weird lately," she said, scooting closer to him. "Like really… distant. Kind of the way you were before, when we first started dating. We haven't even had sex this week. That's… really rare for us."

He chuckled. "I've been a little distracted," he admitted truthfully. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" She reached over to stroke his cheek. "What's going on in that head of yours, huh? Tell me."

"Nothing important," he lied. "Just thinking too much, as usual."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You know you can tell me anything." She hated when he kept things from her, and she had the sneaking suspicion that whatever he was keeping to himself was hurting him.

"I'm sure," he said, swinging his legs onto the bed to lay next to her.

"Then make love to me," she whispered. Her golden brown eyes were filled with love for him, her voice laced with an aching desire for him. She ran her hand gently over his chest.

He turned his head to look at her. He wanted so badly to give her what she wanted, but he didn't feel like he deserved to. She believed him without question, and he was taking advantage of her unyielding trust by lying to her. But she needed him; he knew this. And he needed her, too… just in case he never got this privilege again.

He drew her down on the bed and kissed her, ready to give her what they both wanted and needed. He made love to her slowly, gently, and tenderly, in a way he hadn't in months. She gasped and moaned and breathed his name into his ear, utterly spent and satisfied by the end of it. She couldn't remember the last time he'd been so sweet with her like this. When he eased off her and lay back, she curled her smaller body against his.

"I love you," she whispered as her eyes closed. "My life is perfect."

He waited until she was in a deep enough sleep to untangle himself from her embrace. He slid to the edge of the bed and sat up, watching her squirm into the warm spot he'd left behind. He reached over to her, lightly tracing the contours of her body with the tips of his fingers. It was then, watching her sleep so soundly, that he made his decision. He couldn't take any part of her life away from her. He would do what he had to do, and carry the guilt for her sake.


	38. Chapter 38

The next morning, they had to part ways. AJ was due for an interview over at Marvel headquarters, and Punk had to head out to the next house show. He accompanied her to the airport, unwilling to leave her side until absolutely necessary.

"You're a little clingy today," AJ teased as they waited at the terminal for her flight.

"Can you blame me?" Punk asked with a small smile. "You're… irresistible."

"Oh, shut up," she giggled. She leaned against him, tucking her chin over his shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right, baby? You didn't sleep well last night. I'm starting to get really worried." While she knew he'd always had trouble sleeping, it normally wasn't this bad. The usual dark circles that were always present beneath his eyes were darker than they normally were. It pained her to see him in such obvious distress, and even more so that he didn't admit it to her.

He flashed her the broad, winning smile that always made her shiver a little. "April," he said, "don't worry about me. You know how I am. I'm tired and I haven't been home in two weeks. I'm just… looking forward to a few days at home with you." He squeezed her hand. "We should go to your place this time. I haven't even met your dog yet. Isn't that a cardinal rule, that the dog has to like the boyfriend?"

Although she still had her doubts and reservations about what was really happening inside his head, the ease with which he spoke was enough to get her to back off. "I think so," she said with a smile. "But I'm sure he'll like you. He's a big on cuddling… like someone else I know."

"Shhh!" he whispered, looking around dramatically. "You can't tell anyone my secret."

"You're too much," she said, laughing. A droning voice sounded over the PA system. "That's my boarding call… I've got to go." She stood up, grabbing her suitcase.

"Let me know when you land," he said automatically, rising with her and putting his arms around her. He felt deep pang in his heart- he didn't want to see her go.

"Of course." She stood on her toes to kiss him. "I love you."

His grip around her tightened. "I love you, too," he whispered back. There was so much more he wanted to say to her. He wanted to pour out his soul, to tell her how much he loved and needed and depended on her. He wanted to tell her that he was sure she was the reason his heart was still beating, and that without her, he would surely break. But he couldn't. He kept his mouth shut, knowing such talk would only frighten her. He reluctantly released her from his arms, watching as she boarded the plane. He waited until it took off before walking out to the parking lot, digging his phone out of his pocket.

'I made my decision,' he texted to Beth. 'I'll do it.'

* * *

_This is insane, _Punk thought as he walked into the arena that afternoon. _This is completely fucking insane. _I'm _insane. There's no possible way this can go right. _How could he even wrestle tonight, knowing what he had to do after the show?

AJ had texted him a little earlier. She was having a blast touring Marvel headquarters, meeting writers and artists and seeing all sorts of memorabilia. It was a dream come true for any of the nerds out there like them, yet another luxury afforded to her by her job. He couldn't imagine her going back to the poor, mild-mannered Jersey girl she was before she got to where she was today.

"What's your deal, man?" Zack asked him finally, as they sat together in the locker room. He was running a comb idly through his hair, making sure it was adequately spiked. "You've been dead quiet."

"He's just upset because he won't be getting any tonight," Alex teased from the other side of the room, where he was putting on his boots. "AJ's not here, remember?"

"Dude!" Punk hissed. "Shut up!" He ducked his head furtively. "You're gonna blow our cover."

"Take it easy, James Bond," Alex said with a laugh. "We're the only ones in here right now. You need to relax. You're getting way too paranoid."

_If only they knew, _Punk thought miserably. "Oh, give me a break," he said. "I've got a lot on my plate." He narrowed his eyes at Zack. "What if this was happening to you and Kait?"

"It would be a lot easier for us to handle," Zack answered confidently.

"Oh, yeah?" Punk challenged. "And why is that?"

Zack grinned at him. "I don't need to fuck as much as you do to survive."

Alex howled with laughter. "I think you just fucked yourself over with that one," he said.

"Why?" Zack asked, frowning.

"Because that makes it sound like you _can't _get laid as often as he does!"

"You're so wrong, Letterman! Dead wrong!"

"Am I? Should I ask Kaitlyn how often she lets you violate her?" Alex reached for Zack's phone.

"Hey! Don't!"

Punk just smiled, leaning back against the wall as he watched his friends tease each other. It was as though watching other people relax and be happy could help him feel that way, too. But it was over too soon. He was in the main event with Alberto Del Rio, and he needed to get his head in the game.

During the match, he found himself hitting Del Rio harder than he would normally. Whenever he stiffed his opponent, the Mexican 'aristocrat' would hit him back, the blow often being harder than the one he'd originally been dealt. He wasn't sure why, but as the match progressed, he began to figure it out.

He was trying to punish himself.

After the match ended with Punk's signature GTS and a pin, he raised his belt above his head triumphantly. He hobbled to the back alone, as Paul normally didn't accompany him to house shows. While he generally enjoyed his mentor's company, tonight he was glad to be alone. He didn't even have to wait for Kofi- his road wife was at home today. He would just be able to grab his bag and leave.

He ducked into the locker room quickly, weaving his way through the rest of the roster to grab his bag. He didn't even take the time to change; he just wanted to get out of there to prepare himself for what lay ahead. As he darted out to the parking lot, though, he ran into someone who he wasn't surprised followed him out.

"So, are you going to go through with it?" Beth asked.

"Leave me alone," he growled. "This is hard enough without you badgering me."

"I don't think you're in any position to be telling me off," she hissed.

Punk sighed, leaning back against his bus and folding his arms. "Talk."

"Oh, we don't have much to talk about," she said simply. "We both know you know your way around a woman's body."

"Yeah?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Longing for me, are you? Edge can't make you scream like I could?" He knew trying to piss her off wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't help it. She had backed him into a corner, and the only thing he could do to get back at her was aggravate her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but ignored his statement. "One more thing," she said flatly. "Don't be a hard ass. If I get a call tomorrow morning that you were a complete dick to her, the deal is off."

"Fine," he snapped. "Now leave me alone."

After showering and changing at the hotel, he found himself pacing the room incessantly. He didn't want to do this. Every bone in his body was telling him not to. He stared constantly at the background of his phone, an endearing picture of himself and a smiling AJ. How could he do this to her? But how could he not? Groaning, he noticed how late it was getting; it was already midnight. If he was going to do this, he needed to get it over with.

He scrolled through his contact list until he got to Eve. He'd never called or texted her before; he was actually surprised he still had her number. Taking a deep breath, he sent her a message.


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's note: WARNING! This chapter contains a pretty intense scene that was pretty tough to write. I sincerely hope I don't offend anyone and if I do, I'm deeply sorry. Big thanks to Red Foxy for helping me brainstorm on this one. Enjoy and hang onto your seats!**

Eve was curled up on her bed, combing her hair post-shower when her phone beeped. She put down her comb excitedly and grabbed her phone from the bedside table. Her eyes widened at the message; she couldn't believe it when Beth told her, but it was actually happening. She leaned into the light to read it again, just to make sure the message was real.

'Let's do this. Where is your room? –Punk'

She forced herself to wait a few minutes to reply, not wanting to seem overeager. In the interim she looked at herself in the mirror. Her waterfall of golden brown hair rested comfortably behind her shoulders, leaving her face uncovered. She was wearing one of her usual thin-strapped nightgowns, ending at her mid-thigh. The sheer white fabric left very little to the imagination. She wished she had the time to fluff up her appearance a little bit more, but she hadn't really taken Beth's assertion seriously earlier, so it would have to do. Picking up her phone, she replied to him.

'Third floor. 356. See you soon!'

There was a light knock on her door a few minutes later. She sprang off the edge of the bed excitedly, hurrying to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and stepped back. She almost couldn't believe her eyes, but CM Punk was standing before her, shirtless with his hands buried in his pockets. "I didn't think you'd come," she said quietly, smiling nervously.

Punk shrugged. "Well… here I am," he said. "Can I…" He gestured past her, into the room.

"Sure, sure," she said quickly. "Come on in."

He kicked the door closed behind him. They stood before each other awkwardly for a moment, Punk staring at the floor while Eve twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Neither of them was sure what to do or say. Finally, Punk broke the silence.

"Look," he said flatly, "I… don't really do this. I don't know what to do here."

She smiled thinly at him. "Well, you skipped the whole 'taking me to dinner' part, so that only leaves us with a few options," she teased.

He sighed. "Just come here," he said, motioning her forward.

She frowned at him; he didn't seem into this at all. But she shook it off, attributing it to nerves. She stepped toward him slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She'd never been this close to him before; his eyes were such a deep, piercing green, and they were staring straight at her. Taking deep breath, she tipped her chin up to kiss him.

As soon as her lips touched his, Punk felt an unimaginable rage come over him. He didn't like kissing her; it felt wrong on so many levels, and that made him seethe. He wanted to shove her back with all the force he could. But as he moved his hands up to her shoulders to push her, he remembered what Beth had told him. He forced himself to kiss her back, even as every bone in his body screamed at him not to. These weren't AJ's sweet, bubblegum lips. How could he even hope to go through with this?

She turned him around to push him back onto the bed, giggling giddily as she did so. The sound of her laughter made his skin crawl, but he forced himself to keep a straight face as she climbed on top of him. _Please call it off, _he begged silently. _Tell me we're moving too fast. Tell me you're tired. Hell, tell me I'm too small for you. Anything. _But she kept kissing him, discreetly taking the straps of her nightgown down. Her hands began gradually sliding down his chest, his stomach, lower. When she dipped beneath the waistband of his shorts, he thought he was going to lose it. He pulled his face away from hers, biting his lip hard to suppress a groan as her hand closed around him.

"Like that?" she whispered seductively.

He didn't answer her. He just closed eyes, trying to pretend the woman on top of him was his girlfriend. But he couldn't; he could tell the differences in the palm of her hand as she stroked him, slowly and teasingly. This wasn't his girl. It wasn't his beautiful, delicate, angel-faced girl who was sliding his shorts off and digging her fake nails into his skin.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she asked quietly.

He opened his eyes, dismayed to see the former model above him. "Uh, no," he choked out. "Why?"

"You're…" She paused, blushing. "You're not very hard."

_That's because I'm trying not to kill you, _he thought. _Fuck, how can I do this? _"Let's try something else," he said gruffly, threading his fingers through her hair. He yanked her head down to his lap, a little more roughly than he had intended to. She let out a tiny squeal of pain, but quickly understood what he wanted and took him into her mouth. He groaned, tilting his head back. In spite of himself, he was quickly becoming erect as she twirled her tongue around him. His grip on her hair tightened; he was deeply ashamed of the pleasure he was getting from this woman who was not the love of his life.

"Fuck!" he yelled, pulling her off him finally. He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to get this over with, now. And he was going to punish her for wanting him like this. He rolled her onto her back and ripped at the neckline of her nightgown, tearing the fabric away from her body.

"Be careful," she whispered, but he ignored her. He tossed the tattered nightgown aside and pounced on her, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. He sank his teeth into the skin over her collarbone, biting down hard; he didn't relent until he tasted blood. He heard her yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure, squirming beneath his grasp.

"You sure like it rough," she gasped, her back rising off the bed a little. Again, he paid her no mind as he continued his assault on her body. He raked the nails of his free hand down her torso, his teeth now clamping down on one of her breasts. Her moans quickly turned to a fearful gasp.

"Punk, slow down," she muttered. His answer was only to bite down harder, his hand coming up to fondle her other breast. She cried out in pain. "Hey, that… that hurts!"

"Shut up," he snapped. He started to pry her legs apart.

"Come on, be more gentle!" she cried, but he was having none of that. He raised his hips over hers, readjusting his other hand to secure her wrists more firmly.

She shook her head. "Punk, no," she begged. "Please."

"You wanted this," he growled, his eyes boring hatred into hers.

"Not like this!" She started to struggle beneath him. "Come on, stop it. Punk, stop! _Punk_!" She finally wrenched one her hands free, bringing it across his face for a hard, brutal slap. His cheek stung; the pain gave him enough pause for her to shove her off him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she cried, sitting up and clutching a sheet to her chest. She was breathing heavily, a few tears streaking down her cheeks. "You're insane!"

"_I'm _insane?" he yelled back. "You're the one who lured me here!"

"What the hell are you talking about? _You _texted _me_! You wanted to do this!"

"Yeah, because you and your insane friend-" He paused, the hammer tipping in the back of his head. "You… you don't know…"

"Know what?" she snapped. "What are talking about it?"

"You don't know," he repeated. "She tricked me… She fucking tricked me, and I almost just… Oh, fuck…" He scrambled off the bed, fumbling for his shorts. Ignoring Eve's cries for an explanation, he dashed out of the room, making a break for the elevator to get back to his room. "Oh fuck… _fuck…" _

He burst into his room, barely making it to the bathroom before vomiting everything he'd eaten that day. He wretched and dry-heaved painfully for the next ten minutes, his body not allowing him to stop until everything in his stomach had been evacuated. He rose from the floor shakily, washing his mouth and his face in the sink. When he finally was able to look up, he was overcome with rage again as his eyes met his own reflection. In blind flash of fury he hurled his fist into the mirror. He didn't stop punching until the glass shattered, so he no longer had to face the monster he had become.


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's note: Hey guys! I hope the last chapter didn't break too many hearts, lol. Here's the next installment. Also, I see a lot of other authors doing this so I figured I would do the same. Some other Punklee stories you should definitely check out if you enjoy mine are Take Me With You by Red Foxy, Hard to Handle by Jean-theGuardian, and Just Friends by DemonicXaliv. Just a few of the very talented writers and great stories on here!**

Punk spent the next hour or so sitting on the floor of the bathroom, surrounded by the wreckage of the mirror. It took him that long to pluck the many shards of glass out, his bleeding hands shaking the whole time. He tossed them each in the wastebasket, and then collected the mess on the floor and counter. He didn't care much about the damages he knew he would likely be responsible for, but he didn't want to look at the mess anymore.

After washing the blood from his hands in the sink, he stripped down and got into the shower. He wasn't sure how long he spent standing under the water; it had to be at least an hour and a half, as he had used up an entire bar of soap. But no matter how hard he scraped and scrubbed at his increasingly red flesh, he couldn't wash the feeling of shame from his skin.

It was after three in the morning when he finally emerged from the bathroom, his skin tender. He threw the pair of shorts he'd been wearing in the trash, wanting no trace of Eve's sickly sweet scent anywhere on him. He fetched another pair from his bag and put them on, stumbling as he did so; his body felt oddly weak. Groaning, he tried to make it to the bed but ended up crashing to the floor instead. He gave up and remained there, not willing to try to get to comfort he didn't even deserve. He managed to pull himself into a sitting position, resting his head against his knees.

_If I'm ever going to be hit by an asteroid, now would be a great time, _he thought. It was the last conscious thought he could remember before eventually passing out from sheer exhaustion.

* * *

Punk was awoken early the next morning to the familiar tone of "Let's Light it Up" blasting from his phone. "No, no," he groaned, stretching out painfully- he'd fallen asleep on the floor. "Not right now. Not yet." He didn't know what he was going to say to her. He didn't even know if he could _handle _talking to her… But if he didn't answer, she would worry. With another stiff groan he stood up, making his way to the bedside table to grab his phone.

"He-hello?" he asked shakily.

"Good morning, my amazing champion," AJ said cheerfully. "How did you sleep?"

"Uh, all right, I guess," he choked out.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You don't sound very good. I… I didn't call too early, did I? You're usually up this early, so I figured I would just call and say hi and-"

"No, no, I'm fine," he lied quickly. "Just woke up, actually. How are you?"

"I'm great," she answered. "Yesterday was so amazing. I got a lot of really cool stuff to show you, too. I'm packing to leave California right now so I can meet up with you on the tour later today."

At this, Punk balked. She couldn't come back yet- he still didn't know what he was going to do about Beth and Eve. What if one of them told her? What if Eve reported what he'd done? What if he got arrested? "Wait," he said, rapidly trying to come up with an idea. "Why don't you spend the weekend at home? You haven't seen your family in awhile."

"But I'm seeing them next week," she pointed out. "After Nashville, RAW's in New Jersey, remember? We're spending the whole week at my place."

"Yeah, but you're not scheduled for tonight or tomorrow's house shows," he said. "You'd just be hiding in my bus all day. There's no point in doing that; you'd barely see me. It makes more sense to come to Tennessee on Monday." He bit his lip, silently pleading with her to agree with him.

"Well…" she mused. "I guess if you think that's best. But…" She sighed. "I'll really miss you!"

Before he could stop himself, he let out a heavy sigh of relief. "I'll miss you too. But I'll see you on Monday. It's just two days. It will pass before we know it. Hey, I've got to get going. I need to do my work out and get on the road. Love you."

"Love you too," she said quietly, but he had already hung up.

AJ frowned as she zipped up her suitcase, now chockfull of goodies from Marvel Studios. This behavior wasn't like Punk at all- he usually jumped at the chance to reunite with her when they were separated for a few days. Why was he suddenly pushing to be away from her now? It didn't make sense, and further heightened her suspicions that he was hiding something from her. But there was nothing she could do about it now, so she took a cab to the airport and got on the first flight to New Jersey. She was plagued with questions and doubts the whole way home.

* * *

Punk didn't speak to anyone when he arrived at the arena that afternoon. He'd already secured his wrist tape, which now stretched much higher on his hands than normal. He hoped no one notice, as his knuckles usually weren't covered. But he had to do it in order to hide the many nicks and cuts from his bout of anger against the hotel mirror. It was another reason why he didn't want to meet up again with AJ just yet- she would surely notice his damaged hands, and he needed them to heal.

The last person on the planet he wanted to talk to was Eve, and it looked like the feeling was mutual- he didn't see her anywhere. She was steadfastly avoiding him, probably holed up in the Diva's locker room, the one place he wouldn't be able to find her. But as much as he didn't want to talk to her, he knew he had to- he had to clear this up. There was a chance, however small, that she may not have told Beth the extent of what happened yet, and he needed to get her before that happened. He sent her a text message, asking her to hear him out.

He got a reply back almost instantly- 'I don't trust you.'

'Please?' he begged. 'Meet me in the parking lot. Broad daylight and all. I just need to talk to you.'

'Fine. Five minutes.'

He quickly rushed out to meet her, waiting at the back entrance to the loading area for her. He immediately felt more shame and anger as soon as she arrived- she was sporting a large bandage over her collarbone, presumably hiding the sizeable wound he'd left on her the night before.

"Shit, could you be any more obvious?" he asked, gesturing to the cover-up. He instantly regretted saying that; she didn't deserve his scorn or anger. Maybe she had been a little naive, but none of this was her fault.

"I was going to use make-up, but I didn't have time before I left," she answered quietly. "I'm going to cover it up before I wrestle." She shook her head rapidly, raising it to look back at him in anger. "What do you want, anyway? You're insane, Punk. I don't want to talk to you."

"I-"

"You almost raped me!" she cried, a little louder than she had meant to. "You're lucky I didn't call the cops! You're a sick bastard, you know that? First you ask your ex-girlfriend to hook you up with her best friend, and then, not telling me you already have a girlfriend that you're not even supposed to be with, you nearly beat the shit out of me and almost take advantage of me? What the hell is wrong with you!"

"I…" he began, then faltered. "Wait a second. Who told you I had a girlfriend?" His break up with AJ had been very public; as far as he knew, the only people who knew they were back together were their friends and Beth.

"Beth did," she said hotly. "She told me this morning after I told her what you did."

"Eve, you've got it all wrong," he said quickly. "Beth's the one behind this whole thing!" He quickly told her of his conniving ex's plan to blackmail him, and how the whole thing had been a cruel trick all along.

She was shaking her head the whole time. "You're an even bigger asshole than I thought," she spat. "Now you're trying to turn me against my best friend! You know what, it just so happens that I heard about that little letter awhile back. That's why I thought you and that little whore weren't together anymore. But now that I know you're still seeing her, I'm going to have a chat with Triple H on Monday."

"No, you can't do that!" he nearly shouted. "Eve, you have to believe me! She's lying! This whole thing was a setup, and she used you! She's not your friend, she's a heartless bitch!"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "You dug yourself into this hole by trying to cheat on your girlfriend, Punk. You messed with the wrong woman. I hope she enjoys her job… while it lasts." She turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Punk helpless in her wake.


	41. Chapter 41

Punk spent the rest of the weekend trying frantically to get in contact with Eve, begging her to reconsider. He left her countless text messages and voicemails, all of them apologizing profusely for his actions and pleading with her. Eventually, his messages stopped arriving all together; she must have blocked his number.

By Monday morning, he was practically sweating bullets, and his friends were starting to notice how wired he was. He was sitting at a booth at a Denny's near that night's arena with Alex, Zack, Kaitlyn, and Kofi. While the rest of them laughed and talked as they ate, he stared down at his untouched plate, completely silent.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Kaitlyn asked him finally during a lull in the conversation.

"Huh?" Punk murmured, glancing up from his breakfast.

"I asked you if something was wrong," she said. "You haven't said a word all morning and you aren't eating, which is even weirder. You usually eat like a horse."

"I've eaten," he muttered, poking at the stack of pancakes with his fork.

"Pushing your food around doesn't count as eating," Kofi pointed out.

"Yeah, what are you, an anorexic teenage girl?" Zack chimed in.

"Hey, be nice," Kaitlyn scolded, pinching his hand sharply.

"Ow!" Zack yelped. "All of a sudden you're telling us to be nice to Punk? Not even two weeks ago, you said-"

His fiery girlfriend cut him off with another pinch. "I know what I said."

Kofi laughed. "Pinch him again!"

Zack just shook his head. "I don't get women," he said. "You're all so inconsistent."

"Ain't it the truth," Alex agreed.

"Shut up!" Kaitlyn snapped. She turned her attention back to Punk. "Is everything okay? Is it AJ?"

"No," Punk said quickly, shaking his head. "AJ… AJ's perfect." Boy, was she perfect. She was his perfect woman, and so far he had managed to do nothing but wrong by her after stringing her along with promises of right.

"Then what's eating you, champ?" Zack asked, tilting his head back as Kaitlyn delivered a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"Nothing, guys," Punk assured them. "I'm fine, all right? You know I don't sleep well, I haven't seen AJ in a few days, and I'm trying to wrap my head around this whole thing that's playing out tonight." He forced a smile. "You guys don't all need to play nurse maid to me all the time, you know. I'm a big boy. Actually, I'm older and more experienced than all of you. I love you, but cut it out."

Alex shrugged. "Well, in that case…" He glanced at Punk's plate. "Gonna eat that?"

* * *

Punk was getting desperate by midday. AJ was due to arrive soon, and his head was spinning. He still hadn't gotten a hold of Eve- she was nowhere to be found. And what about RAW that night? He was so wrapped up and busy agonizing over what was happening with his personal life, he had yet to spare more than a single thought toward what was happening with work. Tonight, he was supposed to sign his match 'contract' to wrestle Ryback at Hell in a Cell, as John wasn't healed enough yet from his surgery to participate in such a heavy match (although the WWE Universe didn't know that yet). Ryback was a decent guy behind the scenes, and a good enough wrestler so far, but how would the fans receive him as a main event player? Would he be able to put on a convincing, hard-hitting match with Punk at the pay-per-view? Would this whole angle (brought on purely by John's injury) derail Punk's own momentum?

He was brooding about everything going on in his life as paced back and forth in front of the diva locker room. Traffic in and out of the room had been largely minimal throughout the day, but he had yet to see Eve come out. After hours of waiting, someone finally emerged, but it wasn't the person he needed to see- it was someone he had been steadfastly avoiding, so he didn't kill her.

"I don't think this is your locker room," Beth said sweetly. "What do you need, baby boy?"

"You evil, conniving _bitch_!" Punk hissed, immediately bearing down upon her. "You lied to me! You fucking lied to me, and you tricked me! And not just me, but your best friend! You fucking lied to both of us and completely screwed me over! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Tricked you?" She blinked at him innocently. "I don't see how I tricked you at all. I told you to go spend a night with my friend to save your little pet project's job. Not only did you fail to do that, you nearly beat the shit out of her. So I fully support her decision to go to the boss with the evidence I've provided for her."

"You're missing the part where _you didn't fucking tell her about your little plan_!" he shouted.

"Keep your voice down," she snapped.

"No! You fucked us both over!" He felt a vein pulsing in his forehead as he screamed at her- he'd never felt such fury before, and it was all coming out now. She seized him by the wrist and started pulling him down the hallway. He yanked his arm away but followed her out into the parking lot, where he unloaded on her again. "You lied to me, and you lied to her! What the fuck was the purpose of that? What could you possibly gain from putting someone you claim to be best friends with through that?"

"Let's get something straight," she growled. "I didn't put her through _anything_. You're the one who got rough and violent. All you had to do was what you do best-that is, have sex with a pretty woman who isn't your girlfriend-and move on, but you couldn't. And now you're going to pay the price."

Punk was about to unleash another tirade when he realized what she said. "Wait, what are you talking about?" he demanded. "Have sex with a woman who isn't my girlfriend? What do you mean?"

"Do we really have to beat around the bush? You cheated on me with Amy, Punk. I know you did!"

"I _never _fucking cheated on you!" he yelled incredulously. He was almost too stunned to believe what was happening. To believe what his life had become. "Are you serious right now? Is that what this is really about? It's more than how I 'destroyed' your career by existing? I never cheated on you! Not even when I was completely miserable because of how much of a cold-hearted bitch you are! I've never cheated on anyone I've ever been with!"

A slow smile crept across her face. "Oh, yes you did," she said. "Last night, in fact. You may not have gone all the way with Eve, but boy did you do some things."

"What is she talking about?"

The small, uncertain voice from behind him made Punk's blood run cold. He turned around slowly, silently hoping he was hallucinating, that his ears were playing tricks on him. But they weren't, and the voice belonged to the last person who needed to overhear this conversation. "AJ…" he said quietly, reaching out to her, "how much of that did you hear?"

AJ shook her head violently, recoiling from his touch. "Tell me what she's talking about!" she demanded. Her lower lip was quivering in the questioning, terrified way that always tried to hold back heartbreak.

"He cheated on you," Beth informed her helpfully. "With Eve."

"You _what_?" AJ shrieked, stepping back.

"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Punk snapped, shaking his index finger warningly at Beth. He turned back to AJ, his expression one of pleading. "Baby, let me explain. It's all a misunderstanding."

"How could you possibly explain cheating on me?" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. All the while, Beth watched with delight.

"No, listen to me," he begged. "She blackmailed me, baby. Beth blackmailed me. She was going to go to Hunter with the pictures of us and get you fired unless I… spent some time… with Eve."

"So your solution was to go fuck another woman instead of talk to me and try to find a way out of it?" AJ sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. She shook her head. "No way. I don't believe you."

"I didn't sleep with her!" he protested. "It never happened, because Beth lied to her, too. She had me believing Eve was in on the little scheme, but I found out she wasn't, and I didn't go through with it."

"I don't believe you!" AJ repeated, covering her ears. "You're lying to me! If any of that is true, then why didn't you just go to Hunter yourself with this little blackmail plan?"

"You really think he would have believed me?" he asked. "It sounds crazy enough just telling you! And if I told him about the blackmail, that would have outed us anyway!"

"And why weren't you planning on telling me?" she snapped.

Beth was grinning ear to ear at this point. "Why don't you see for yourself," she suggested, taking an iPhone out of her pocket. Punk recognized the flowery pink case- it was Eve's. "Here, check out the text messages." She handed the phone to AJ, who rapidly scrolled through everything, eyes widening with each message she passed.

"What did you do?" AJ cried. "You do _this _instead of talking to me, and then you… you hurt someone completely innocent like this? You… you idiot! Now I'm going to be out of a job _and _a boyfriend!"

The ground started to slip out from under him a little. "Baby, no," Punk begged.

She cast the phone on the ground. "You cruel, evil witch!" she cried, launching herself at Beth. "You ruined everything!" Her hands, reared in claws, fell just inches short of Beth's face as Punk's arms looped around the smaller girl's waist to pull her back. "Let me go! Let me fucking kill her!"

"AJ, stop!" he yelled, glaring as Beth howled with laughter.

"Put me down!"

He carried her a few feet away before setting her down. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she brought a hard slap whistling across his face. It carried all of her emotion in one brutal blow that sent him reeling. "I hate you, you son of bitch! I hope I never, _ever _see you again!" She shook out of his grasp and took off running.

Frantic and about to burst, Punk whirled around to face the still cackling Beth. "Are you fucking happy?" he shouted at her. "Did you get everything you wanted?"

"Let's see…" She stroked her chin with mock seriousness. "Your little playgirl about to be out of a job? Check. You single and hopelessly alone? Check. Yep, I've gotten everything I wanted." She picked up Eve's discarded phone and started making her way back to the building.

Left alone again, Punk fell to his knees. He didn't know what to think anymore.


	42. Chapter 42

AJ wasn't sure where she was running when she took off through the parking lot, with the duffel bag slung across her shoulder bouncing painfully against her side. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting away from here, and putting as much distance between herself and the pair she had just left as possible. She didn't turn around or look back, knowing it would only slow her down to see Punk's haunting green eyes begging her to come back to him. Her eyes were clouded with tears as she ran, almost completely obstructing her vision.

She didn't get far. She made it to the edge of the parking lot before smacking into someone. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said, backing up quickly. Her bag fell from her shoulder. "Fuck!" She frantically wiped the tears from her eyes as she collected her bag from the ground.

"AJ? What's going on?"

She looked up to see John standing before her. "Oh, n-nothing," she stammered, shouldering her back. "Nothing. Nothing's going on."

"Bullshit," he said flatly. "You're crying. What happened, AJ? And don't tell me 'nothing' again. Clearly, _something _happened."

"Oh, John," she sobbed against his chest. "It was horrible." She wasn't Punk. She didn't have the strength to hold everything in the way he did. And although John would not have been her first choice (far from it; ideally, she would have wanted to sob over ice cream with Kaitlyn), he was here and would have to do for now.

"Shhh," he said soothingly, rubbing her back. "Tell me what happened." She did, giving him an abbreviated rundown of what had just occurred. He appeared stunned in the end, but didn't stop trying to comfort her. He let her cry it out into his T-shirt, her tiny hands closing around his sleeves as she held onto his much larger frame.

"Hey," he said finally, moving her back so he could look at her. "Why don't you go to the hotel? You're not on the card tonight, so there's no reason to be waiting around here all miserable."

"I… don't have a room," she whispered, looking down. "I was going to stay with-"

John nodded. "Right." He dug his hand into one of his pockets, unearthing a small plastic keycard. "Go wait in my room, then."

"John…" She looked up at him. "I can't… I'm not… I'm not staying in your room."

He gave her a wry, boyish smile. "Do you really think that's the kind of guy I am?" He shook his head. "I mean just go hang out and relax till RAW is done. Then you can tell me more about what's going on, and I'll see if I can help it all."

"Oh, I couldn't," she said quickly. "That's asking too much."

"You didn't ask," he reminded her. "I offered." He pushed the key into her hand. "Go. I'll see you later, okay? Don't worry about a thing." He walked her to her rental car and saw her off, before she could think of any reasons to disagree with him. As she drove to the hotel, she couldn't figure out why she had accepted John's offer. A boy scout, Punk always called him.

_Maybe I need a boy scout to save me right now, _she thought.

* * *

"Punk, what the hell's wrong with you?" Paul asked. "You've been off all night. What's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Punk muttered in reply.

The two sat together on a bench near catering, with Punk's head hung low toward the ground. Their first segment was rapidly approaching, and Punk's sour mood was easily evident. "Come on, kid," Paul urged. "What's going on with you? What's eating the champ?"

This phrase caused him to look up. "You sound like Zack," he said, then shook his head. "Look, don't worry about it. I'm fine. I'll be fine on screen. Got it?"

Paul smiled, that same smile Punk had come to know over many years. "That's what matters," he said.

As usual, Punk's behind-the-scenes anger made it even easier to push with the convincing frustration and emotion the viewers ate up. Everything looked and sounded so genuine, when in fact the WWE champion was running completely on autopilot at this point. With every word he spoke to the crowd, to John and Ryback, to Vince, he just wanted to run away. He wanted to find the nearest gym and hit a punching bag for hours until he couldn't feel his fists anymore. He didn't want to feel any emotion at all right now, because every time his eyes were closed for more than a second, he saw AJ's expression sobbing before him.

As soon RAW was off the air, Triple H snagged him by the arm. "My office, now," the COO ordered. "Your skinny fat ass has some major explaining to do."

"Not now," Punk growled. He shook his arm free of his boss and started past him.

"Maybe you didn't understand me correctly," Hunter snapped. "I said my office, n-"

"And I said not now!" Punk shouted back. The force of his words took Hunter aback a little bit. "What the fuck do you want me to say? I can't explain anything, all right? Nothing I say will make it any better, will it? Of course not! I could try to tell you the twisted tale that led to this, but there's not a chance in hell you'll believe me, so why bother? I'm not in the mood for you to yell at me over and over again until you're satisfied I've learned the error of my ways. I'll pass on that one, buddy. So do me a favor and let me just fucking sulk about how much I've screwed things up, all right?"

Before the older wrestler could even respond, Punk had already bolted. He ran to his bus and shut the door, instructing his driver to take off to the next city. He had no plans of stopping at the hotel and being ambushed by his friends or anyone else. No, right now he just needed to be alone.

* * *

At first, AJ hadn't been so sure about taking up residence in John's room. But as soon as she got there, she immediately collapsed on the bed in tears. Finally alone, she was able to let everything out again, sobbing into the nearest pillow for hours.

Sometime later, she was dimly aware of the door opening and heavy footsteps coming inside. The bed sagged slightly as John sat down next to her. "Shhh," he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she sat up. "Not feeling any better?" She shook her head silently, reaching for a tissue to dry her eyes.

"Well, would talking about it help?" he asked. "We have no time limits here. You can tell me everything."

It felt so wrong, sharing the intimate details of her relationship (or her former relationship, rather) with John. These were things she and Punk had wanted no one to know, not even their closest friends, and here she was spilling all of it to one of his arch rivals. But as she began to speak, she started to feel… lighter. Before she could even realize what was happening she was telling him everything, from the stumbling beginning all the way to the bitter, terrible end that afternoon. John listened the entire time in silence, nodding occasionally through each tale.

"So that's it," she concluded tearfully, wiping her cheeks of tears again. "Beth tried to blackmail him, but instead of trying to talk to me about it or figure a way out of it, he jumped straight into hooking up with another woman."

"I'm sure it's a little more complicated than that," John said gently.

She stared at him angrily. "You're _defending _him?"

"No, no," he said quickly, holding up his hands defensively. "I'm just saying, there's always more to the story than what you see up front. He may be a dog sometimes, but I'm sure he didn't just decide right off the bat to go do… what he did."

AJ just sighed, fresh tears spurting. "It doesn't even matter, because by next Monday I probably won't even have a job."

"Hey, hey, that's not going to happen," he said firmly. "I'm going to take care of that, all right? You're not going to lose your job."

She looked up at him. "Why do you even care so much, anyway? You barely know me, John."

He just smiled at her, reaching out to brush a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Because you deserve better than what's happening to you," he said.


	43. Chapter 43

**Author's note: Sorry this one is so short. It gets better, I promise!**

AJ awoke the next morning to find herself nestled in John's tight embrace. He was still asleep, arms secured protectively around her. She frowned. How did this happen? Had they fallen asleep this way, or had he gravitated toward her at some point during the night? She supposed it didn't matter now; it was morning and she had slept in this man's arms without even meaning to. Sighing, she began to try to untangle herself from him.

John awoke about halfway through her attempt. "Hey," he muttered sleepily, pulling his arms back so she could sit up. "Morning."

"Hi," she said quietly, scratching one of her arms awkwardly. She wasn't sure what to say. The air between them was heavy with tension.

"Uh, sorry about that," he said, almost a little nervously.

"About what?" she asked. It amused her that finding himself curled against her could reduce a man like John to stammering like a high school boy.

"About the… cuddling thing," he replied. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," she told him. "I slept well."

He smiled at her. "So are you feeling any better?" he asked.

A small smile formed on her face as she considered her answer. Since waking up, an idea had been forming in her head that she'd been toying with. She almost thought it too cruel to go through with, at first… but the more she thought about it, the more benefits she could see from it. "Much better," she answered finally. "Hey… do you want to go get breakfast?"

* * *

Punk hadn't slept that night, despite his exhaustion. He lay awake for hours, watching the lights whip past his bus. He tried several times to fall asleep, but every time he began to drift off, an image of AJ's tortured expression flashed before him, and he jerked awake. So he gave up and lay back on the couch, unable to relax on his own bed. It didn't feel right without AJ in it, and it still smelled of her perfume.

The bus pulled into the parking lot of a rest stop in the early morning, the driver tired and in need of a pick-me-up. Punk took the opportunity to stretch his legs himself, leaning back against the bus and yawning. He glanced down at his phone; she hadn't replied to any of his texts, not that he had really expected her to. What was there even left to say? Nothing he could do would get her job back, as he was currently in poor favor with the bosses enough as it was. Nothing he could do would repair her broken trust, even if he had done what he did for her.

Grumbling, he changed the background. He couldn't stare at her smiling face anymore, knowing she would never smile for him ever again. Just as he saved it to a random band logo he had, his phone lit up. At first, he didn't want to answer- he didn't want to talk to anyone. But the name that flashed on the screen gave him hope that maybe the person on the other end of the line would make him feel a little better, if it were at all possible for him to do so.

"Hello?" Punk muttered.

"How's my favorite tattooed motherfucker!" Colt said cheerfully. "You weren't sleeping, were you? Oh well. I don't really care if you were. How are you, you asshole?"

"I don't know what the hell is happening to me, Colt," he replied miserably. "Fix my life for me."

"Go with your instinct," his light-hearted friend answered easily. "It always helped you before."

"Not this time. This time, it screwed me over."

Colt sighed. "I sense a story coming on," he said. "All right, tell me what the hell happened."

Punk told him, the entire long, grueling story. He hesitated around the part where he'd been unnecessarily rough and violent with Eve, but knew he had to tell that part, too. Colt listened the whole time in silence.

"Shit," he said finally. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, buddy boy? You're in all sorts of trouble, aren't you?"

"I know, I know," Punk groaned. "How do I fix it?"

"You really love her, don't you?" Colt asked. "Shit, of course you do. You wouldn't be freaking out otherwise. You'd just move on." He sighed again. "I don't know, man. This one's tough. Sometimes, you just have to accept that it isn't meant to be. I mean, come on. Think about it. How many roadblocks have you faced trying to stay with her so far?"

"I will _not _fucking accept that!" Punk snapped with more force than he meant to, slamming his fist back against the bus behind him. "I love her, Colt. I fucking love her. I can't just let her go."

"Didn't you tell me to punch you really hard in the face if you ever said that about another woman ever again?" Colt asked. Punk could hear the smile behind his voice.

"I know," Punk growled. "But this is different. _She's _different. I don't know how to explain it. She's just… she's everything I ever needed. She… fuck, this is going to sound so stupid… She completed me. And now that she's not here anymore, I feel like there's something missing. I can't just move on and forget about her. I need her."

"That's beautiful and all, bud, but you may not have a choice," Colt pointed out. "It's not up to you anymore. It's up to her. She may not ever forgive you for what you did."

"But I did for her!" he cried. "Does she not understand? Does she think I _wanted _to do what I did?"

"No," Colt said calmly, knowing how to handle Punk's temper, "but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel betrayed. That doesn't mean she doesn't feel like you cheated on her. If you want to win her back this time, you're going to have to work your ass off for it."

Punk groaned. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Since when are _you _afraid of a little hard work?" he asked with a laugh.

"I'm not. I just don't know what to do."

"You'll figure it out," Colt assured him. "You always do. So I'll see you next Tuesday?"

"What makes you say that?" Punk asked. "I haven't even told you my schedule yet."

"Well, I'm just guessing you aren't going to meet her parents after RAW in New Jersey."

"Yeah," Punk agreed with a sigh. "I guess not."


	44. Chapter 44

"That seriously happened? That's horrible!"

AJ shrugged. "There's not much I can do about it."

"You're _kidding_," Kaitlyn said. "You're not torn up about this at _all_?"

"Of course I am!" She sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "But I'm done moping about it. I'm done moping about him like I always do. This time, I'm going to do something about it."

"AJ, I'm worried about you," Kaitlyn pressed. "You're not acting like yourself. I don't even know where you are. You took off on Monday!"

"I'm fine, Kait," the petite wrestler assured her best friend. "I'm in good hands." She had been riding on John's tour bus for several days now, since leaving the last RAW. While part of her time had been spent crying and reliving her misery, she also spent plenty of time just talking with John. And although she would never admit it, he had his brief moments.

"I thought you were in good hands before," Kaitlyn muttered. "I'm going to kill that bastard!"

AJ sighed again; while she usually appreciated it, sometimes it annoyed her how protective Kaitlyn got of her. "Just let me handle everything, okay? I've got it covered this time. Don't worry about me."

"I'm obligated to," Kaitlyn reminded her. "So I guess I'll see you in a few days?"

"Of course." She glanced over at the door, which was beginning to open. "I've gotta go. See you Monday." Before Kaitlyn could say another word, AJ hung up, sliding her phone away on the table.

"Well, I just got off the phone with Vince," John announced, emerging from the bedroom.

AJ smiled. "Really? What did he say?" she asked excitedly.

"They're willing to hear us out on Monday," he answered, sitting down next to her on the couch.

"Great!" She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a warm embrace. "Oh, John, I can't believe my job really might be saved." She pulled back to look at him. "I… don't know how I could ever thank you." She touched his cheek.

He laughed. "Don't thank me just yet," he said. "It's only Thursday."

"But they wouldn't even be willing to listen if it wasn't for you," she pressed. "And you've done so much for me these past few days…" The hand on his cheek drifted slowly down his chest, resting at his waistline suggestively.

He sucked in a tight breath. "AJ…" he said slowly. "You just got out of a relationship. I don't think you should be… doing this…"

She frowned, her chocolate brown eyes widening in apprehension. "But…" she whimpered. "You don't want me?"

"No, that's not what I…"

"So you _do _want me!" She smiled.

"I…" He quickly moved her off his lap. "I think we're both getting a little ahead of ourselves."

She frowned again, looking down. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just… I don't know what to do anymore." Tears began to form in her eyes, her lower lip quivering.

"Hey, hey, relax," he said soothingly, rubbing her back. "Everything's going to be okay, all right? Don't worry about it. You're just… confused right now. It's okay. I'm going to take care of everything. Here. Come here." He motioned her forward into his arms, where he began rubbing her back in slow, rhythmic circles. She tucked her head over his shoulder, still sobbing as a small smile crept across her face. He was playing right into her hand.

* * *

"Fuck, fuck, fuck… What the fuck do I do? Fuck!"

Punk was pacing his bus back and forth incessantly, muttering to himself as he wore a hole in the floor. He was running on very little sleep since the previous Monday, and the dark circles that were always present beneath his eyes were even darker now. He had been calling and texting AJ nonstop, almost obsessively, and she hadn't replied to a single one of them.

"Fuck… she hates me…"

He knew she would be there at RAW tonight; she'd tweeted about an announcement that she would make following an 'emergency' meeting at WWE Headquarters. Did this mean she would be keeping her job after all? Or maybe they were having her fulfill her final on-air obligations before cruelly kicking her to the curb. The thought of such callousness nearly made him sick.

But what would he say to her? If she was going to be there, that meant he had another opportunity to apologize to her- after all, she couldn't very well hit 'ignore' on him in person. Surely there was _something _he could say to her that would get her to believe him; he just couldn't possibly think of what. Maybe the key lay in Eve- if he could convince Eve to forgive him somehow, and get her to believe that Beth had tricked them both, maybe they could work together to sway AJ. But Eve was definitely in no mood to do him any favors. Getting Eve on his side might prove to be even more difficult than getting AJ to forgive him.

"Punk?" his driver called, interrupting the champion's fevered thoughts. "We're here."

* * *

"I'm nervous," AJ muttered, her leg bouncing up and down.

"Don't be," John said calmly, placing a hand on her knee to steady it. "Just speak calmly and clearly when they ask you questions, and let me do most of the talking." He smiled wryly at her. "This may come as a small surprise, but I actually have a little bit of pull around here."

This got her to smile. "Oh, really?" she teased. "I hadn't guessed."

The two of them were sitting in the lobby of the board room in Titan Towers, awaiting their meeting with the board of directors. AJ had been awake all night, rattled with nerves. She knew how influential John was in the company, but that didn't necessarily guarantee anything. She was just a diva; she was unessential. She could be easily replaced, in the board member's eyes. They wouldn't waste their time with her. Any minute now, they were going to be handing her termination papers…

"Relax," John said suddenly, as though reading her mind. "You aren't going anywhere. The only reason we're even having this stupid meeting is because someone actual made an official complaint on record. Otherwise, no one would care who you were dating."

Her expression lightened. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He smiled. "I'm positive. This is all going to work out just fine."

"I hope so," she whispered back. She leaned her head against his shoulder, hearing him gasp slightly as she did it so; she marveled at how easily she could take his breath away. For the confident man he portrayed himself as, it sure didn't take much to knock him off his game.

A few moments of uneasy silence later, a receptionist poked her head out from the double doors in front of them. "Mr. Cena?" she asked. "Miss Mendez? They're ready for you."


	45. Chapter 45

As soon as the driver parked, Punk jumped out of the bus and went on the hunt for AJ. He searched for her frantically, checking every office and locker room in the building. When he passed by catering for what had to be the twentieth time, Zack shook his head.

"She's not here yet," the internet champion called to him, lifting his water bottle to his lips.

"She's not?" Punk asked, hurrying over. "How do you know?"

"Because she's at the board meeting," he answered. He shook his head. "You're as dumb as a box of rocks sometimes, you know that?"

Punk sighed, leaning against the table. "So I take it you heard."

"Oh, yeah," Zack said.

"How did you find out?"

"AJ told Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn told Kofi, Kofi told Alex…" He waved his hand dismissively. "You know how it goes." He shook his head again. "Dude, how _could _you?"

Punk groaned. "What do you want me to say, man? I was backed into a corner and I did the only thing I thought I could do. I didn't think there was any other way out of it." He paused, fixing his friend with a measured glance. "You do believe me, right? That I was blackmailed?"

"Do I believe that your ex-girlfriend is crazy enough to set up an elaborate scheme to both break up your relationship _and _get AJ fired, rather than the much more logical scenario of you getting caught cheating with one of the hottest chicks on the roster?" Zack questioned. "One that I tried and failed to hook up with, to boot."

Punk rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Zack?" he asked. "I don't need this right now."

His spiky-haired friend waved him off. "I believe you, I believe you," he assured the frazzled WWE champion. "But you have to admit, it _is _pretty far-fetched that all of that would happen."

"I know," Punk said. "That's why I've been freaking out trying to figure out how the hell I'm gonna get AJ to believe and forgive me."

"If that's even possible," Zack pointed out.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy!" Punk said sarcastically.

"Hey, don't point the finger at me," Zack said, holding up his hands defensively. "I shouldn't even be talking to you in public. Technically, I'm speaking to the other side by doing this. My girlfriend's _furious _with you. She'd kill me if she knew."

"Figures," Punk muttered, rolling his eyes. "Mama bear to AJ's rescue."

"They're best friends, can you blame her?" Zack reminded him. "You should be thanking AJ, by the way. Her insistence is the only thing keeping Kaitlyn from clawing your eyes out over this. AJ insisted she'd 'handle it', whatever that means."

"Sounds lovely. I'm sure I'm in for a great evening."

* * *

"Oh, John, I can't believe it!" AJ cried as they walked out of the building. Her heart was pounding; she was still in complete shock over how well the meeting had gone. Surely, she had to be dreaming. This was all a cruel trick, and any moment now she was going to thrash awake in her bed, jobless and hopeless. Just to make sure, she pinched herself. The sharp pain in her arm told her what she needed to know; it had really happened. Overjoyed, she threw her arms around John's neck.

John laughed, embracing her. "Take it easy, little lady," he said, rubbing her back. "It was nothing, really. No big deal."

"But you saved me!" she insisted, loosening her grip so she could look at him. "You saved my job! This is the best outcome I could have hoped for. I'm not the GM anymore, but this might even be better! Now that I'm just a competitor again, I can actually wrestle!" Overwhelmed with excitement again, she threw herself back against John.

"I'm glad you're happy," he said with a smile. Her words secretly overjoyed him.

"I'm so happy," she whispered into his ear. "You're the best, John. And somehow, I'll find a way to thank you for this later."

* * *

Punk had originally promised himself he wasn't going to watch AJ's 'announcement' segment, but he couldn't help it. He was drawn to the monitors to watch her speak, much the way he had during her wedding segment over the summer. He hadn't been prepared for the emotion that would hit him as he heard her speak- and judging by the tears that were pouring down her cheeks, neither had she. He wondered how much of her story was true; he knew she'd fallen on hard times during her life, and one of her greatest hopes in the WWE was to make enough money to take care of her family. Either way, her speech tugged at his heartstrings the way it was meant to. His chest burned as he watched Vince McMahon embrace her, knowing this was the end of her career.

But as he turned to head back to the locker room, the whispers around him told another story. "So I guess she's not the general manager anymore," Punk heard Alex say.

"Yeah, but someone spoke on her behalf at that board meeting earlier today," Kofi piped up. "Word is that they're keeping her on as a regular member of the roster."

"That's great!" Kaitlyn exclaimed. But then she frowned. "I wish she'd been allowed to tell us in person, though."

"Don't sweat it," Zack said easily. "It doesn't mean anything. You know how Vince likes to keep shit like that private until show time."

"So she… she wasn't fired?" Punk spoke up finally. They all turned to him, noticing his presence for the first time.

"Nope!" AJ announced happily from behind him. Everyone turned to face the petite diva, who wore a broad smile on her face. "I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere. No thanks to you, _Punk_." She practically spat his name.

"I… I…" He didn't know what to say. He still hadn't thought of anything, and put on the spot now, he was dumbfounded. "How did you…"

"Oh, you're wondering how I managed to keep my job?" she asked with a sweet smile. "Well, luckily for me, there's someone here who actually _does _care about me, and he went to the meeting with me to help out. He _saved _me, Punk. Something _you _could never do."

He felt his stomach tightening at her words. He had a sick, inkling feeling about who she was referring to, but he had to be sure. "Who?" he managed to ask through gritted teeth.

"Ready to go?" John asked, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder. "We filmed that segment earlier, so we're all set to get out of here."

She looked to him and smiled. "Yeah, John," she replied, shooting a sidelong glance back at Punk. "I am." She slid her hand into John's and turned away, leaving Punk with a knife twisted in his gut.

"She… she's…" Punk muttered, looking helplessly at Kofi.

Kaitlyn shrugged at him. "It's your fault," she said.


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's note: Hey guys, I just wanted to say that I am sooooo sorry for all of the Cena/AJ. Trust me, I hate it as much as you do! I gag every time it's on the screen. It just makes for a compelling story, lol. I'll make it up to you all eventually... You know I could never leave our favorite couple apart and miserable for too long! Anyway, let's get on with chapter 46. Enjoy! Also, here are some other stories to go read. Take Me With You and My Life Was Simple, And Then I Met You are two I've been following lately.**

John couldn't help but chuckle as they walked out to the parking lot hand in hand. "I have to know- what was that all about?" he asked.

AJ turned to look at him. "What was what all about?" she asked as they reached his bus.

"Back there," he clarified, leaning against the door. "You practically dangled me on a string in front of Punk." He laughed again. "If I didn't know any better, I would almost think you were using me to make him jealous."

She felt heat rushing to her cheeks. Had she really made her intentions that obvious? How could she have been so stupid as to blatantly wave John in front of Punk like that? She had to salvage this somehow. It couldn't be over before it had even begun. "Do you really think that?" she asked with an easy-going laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm just… really excited. Today has been insane. Not only did I keep my job, but now I'm in a new angle and I get to work with you all the time!" She gave him the earnest, wide-eyed look that made most men she tried it on melt.

"You're really that excited about working with me?" he asked, his voice laced with a layer of disbelief.

She clasped her hands together. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "You're just… You're exactly what I need right now, John." She bit her lower lip as she looked up at him. She could tell by the way his expression changed that this had won him over. Internally, she breathed a sigh of relief- that had been a close one. She couldn't lose this game so early. Not yet.

John smiled at her, stroking her cheek lightly. "Let's go get dinner," he said.

* * *

"She's using him!" Punk cried, his voice edging on panic. "She's just fucking using him to piss me off, and he's falling right into her little fucking game! What the hell does she think she's trying to pull?"

"Maybe he knows he's being used and doesn't care," Alex suggested. "Shit, would you? I sure wouldn't."

Punk seized his friend by the shirt collar. "Shut the fuck up!" he snapped.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy, buddy," Alex said, wrenching himself free.

"You're getting yourself worked the fuck up for no reason," Kofi said calmly.

"No reason?" Punk echoed incredulously. "My girlfriend is fucking around with that… that _boy scout, _and there's nothing I can do about it!"

"She's not your girlfriend anymore," Kaitlyn corrected coolly. "You fucked that up, remember?"

"Oh, thank you for the input, Kait," Punk said sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed, actually."

"Look," Kaitlyn said flatly, coming toe-to-toe with him, "I'm going to be straight with you, all right? I don't like you. I never have. I think you're too cocky, too full of yourself, and you're an intolerable asshole at your best of times. But… I've known AJ for a long time. For years, she was always the one counseling me and pulling me out of trouble, and for the first time in our friendship, it's the other way around now. When your relationship with her is going well, she's the happiest I've ever seen her. I may not like you… but when you make her happy, you make her happy, and that's what I care about. But you really fucked up this time, Punk. You fucked up big time. I don't know what really happened with this little scandal you've created, but that doesn't really matter anymore. What matters is that you're going to lose her if you don't figure out how to prove you really deserve her." She turned away from him, heading back to the diva locker room. For the second time that night, a woman had left Punk stunned.

"_Damn_," Zack said finally, breaking the awkward silence that had spread out amongst them. "I thought you were the one dating the spitfire, not me."

"I'm not anymore, remember?" Punk muttered miserably as he walked away.

"So what are you gonna do then, hotshot?" Kofi asked. "How are you gonna fix everything… again?"

But Punk was already out of earshot. He knew exactly what he had to do. He just had to hope the person he needed would be willing to help him.

* * *

"Oh, shut up!" AJ giggled as she stumbled out of the elevator.

"I'm serious!" John insisted as he followed her down the hallway to his room.

"No way," she said, shaking her head. "There's no way."

"I'm not lying, I swear! I originally wanted to be a rapper. I kind of still do."

"Aw!" She smiled sweetly at him as they reached his room, moving back so he could unlock the door. "That's really sweet. I really thought that was just part of your early gimmick."

"Nope!" He smiled back at her as he slid his key into the lock. "That's me, the doctor of thuganomics."

She giggled again as they entered the room. "You're too much sometimes, you know that?" They had gone to a small, out of the way diner to grab a meal, and had spent most of the night huddled together in their booth. AJ had tried her best to appear interested in John's stories, and as the evening wore on, she found that it was becoming easier to do so. Now, as he locked the door behind them, she was feeling completely in control of him.

"So, what happens now?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.

She sat down next to him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this," he answered. "You and me. Us."

She gave him a broad smile. "I told you earlier that I was going to find a way to thank you," she reminded him, settling one of her hands on his upper thigh. She suppressed the urge to gulp- if she was going to do this, she had to commit all the way. She just hoped she would be able to go through with it.

"AJ," he said, grinning nervously. "I thought… I thought we talked about this."

She moved her hand up a little higher, still marveling at how easily she could unsettle WWE's resident Superman. He really was nervous. "Please, John," she begged quietly. "Just… let me take care of you."

"April-" he began, but she cut him off by pressing her lips to his. She pulled him into a passionate kiss, her hands clasping his cheeks delicately. He slid back further onto the bed, pulling her petite body on top of his.

She kept her eyes shut tightly as he kissed her back. This didn't feel right at all; this didn't feel like what she loved, what she was used to. The cool, metallic taste of a lip ring she was waiting for never came. There were hard, well-defined muscles beneath his shirt, instead of a flat, lean stomach. His skin was perfect and unblemished; there were no smooth, raised blocks of color and design. _Stop it, _she scolded herself as she helped him remove his shirt, casting it on the floor. _Just turn your brain off and enjoy this. Stop comparing him in terms of who he isn't. _

She forced herself to begin unbuckling his belt, yanking at his jean shorts to pull them down. "Hey, hey, relax," he whispered, lifting his legs to help her. "Just enjoy this."

Just enjoy this. _I'll try, _she thought. She let him roll her onto her back and strip her of her clothes, fighting the urge to cross her arms across her chest and cover herself. She never thought she would be here like this, letting John work his way across her body. He kissed and sucked and licked and bit, trying to illicit from her the reaction she knew only Punk could achieve. She began to worry that he was going to start noticing she wasn't enjoying herself very much, so she quickly crawled out from under him.

"I thought I was supposed to be thanking _you,_" she said teasingly, pushing him down on the bed. He grinned at her, watching as she positioned herself over his lap and began to stroke him. He groaned, pressing his head back against the pillow.

"God damn," he muttered, biting his lip. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Shhh," she ordered. She didn't want to hear his voice, to be reminded of who he wasn't. She took him into her mouth, trying to block out the sounds of his moans as she swirled her tongue around him. She felt him tugging on her hair a few moments later with urgency.

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna blow right now," he whispered.

Releasing him with a pop, she quickly climbed on top of him, letting out a sharp gasp as he filled her completely. Before she could stop herself, she remembered the last time she'd done this- Punk's shower. Just thinking about him made her whole body quiver.

"Are you okay?" John asked.

"Shhh," she told him again, plastering a smile on her face. "Just let me make you happy." Her hips began to move, rocking back and forth on him. His moans and groans filled the room, his nails digging into her thighs as he held on for the ride. _Just keep going, _she told herself. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't enjoy it. Her mind was elsewhere, tucked safely in the arms of the tattooed champion who let her down.

Without warning, his whole body went stiff. He growled out her name as he came, his back arching off the bed. "Oh, fuck," he breathed, falling back to the mattress. "Damn. That was…" He smiled at her. Drugged with pleasure, he didn't even notice how dismayed she looked.

"I'm gonna go clean up," she whispered, quickly climbing off him.

"Yeah," he muttered, his head falling to the side. "Sure, sure." He was asleep before she even got off the bed.

Glancing over her shoulder at his now sleeping form, she couldn't help but scowl. She had to get away from him. She quickly disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door and running the shower. As steam filled the room, she slid down against the wall and began to sob uncontrollably. This had been a terrible mistake… but there was no turning back now.


	47. Chapter 47

"Eve, wait," Punk pleaded.

"Leave me alone!" Eve growled, shaking her arm free of his light grasp. "I have nothing to say to you, Punk!" She spun on her heel to turn away.

"Eve, please," he begged. "Just talk to me. I'm sorry, okay? I've said it a million times!"

"_Sorry _doesn't erase what you did!" she snapped, whirling around to face him again. She flicked her hair, which had been resting over her shoulder, behind her neck. This revealed the slowly healing bruise over her collarbone. Even over a week later, it still was a deep, painful-looking shade of purple and yellow. He could clearly see the outline of his own teeth around it. He instantly felt the awful shame come over him that he'd been trying to suppress since the previous Saturday.

"I know it doesn't," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I can't change what I… what I almost did, all right? I screwed up and I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say about that. I just…" He sighed. "I really need your help."

The diva's champion folded her arms, regarding him coldly. "Give me one reason why I should give you another second of my time," she hissed.

"I can give you two," he answered simply. "One is AJ. Whether you like her or not, she's innocent in this. Not only did she lose one of the opportunities she worked so hard for, she's doing stupid things to get back at me that I know she'll regret. And it's all because of me."

"And what's the other reason?" Eve asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Your best friend is lying to you," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "This bullshit again? Really? I already told you, Punk. She doesn't lie to me." She shook her head. "I knew this would be stupid to even try to listen to you." She started to turn away again, but he caught her arm again.

"Just hear me out, Eve!" His mossy green eyes were a silent, desperate plea. "Think about it." His mind was racing now. "She showed you that 'proof' she had, right? Of me and AJ's relationship?"

"Yeah," she said with nod. "She showed me pictures."

"When did she show them to you?" he asked.

"When I told her about what you did," she snapped. "What does that matter?"

"And that doesn't seem strange to you?" he pressed. "That she just so happened to have pictures on her phone of me kissing AJ, ready and available to show you the morning you ran to her crying?"

She stepped back from him, eyes widening. "I don't… I don't understand," she said quietly.

"Think about it," he urged her. "She told you I was interested in you, right? And then I texted you that night. You don't think it's weird at all that I just randomly sent you a message that basically said 'hey, let's fuck' with no explanation and never having approached you in person about it?"

"I-I just sort of assumed that was the way you handled things," she replied shakily. She was trying to hold it together, but he could tell her resolve was beginning to crumble.

"And why on Earth would I ask _Beth_, of _all people_, to fix me up with you?" He was walking forward to her as he spoke, all but pinning her back against the wall. "Our break up was loud and messy and it was made pretty clear on both sides that friendship wasn't an option. How many times did she rant to you about how much of an asshole I am, huh? And then all of a sudden she just comes to you with this crazy story of me wanting to hook up with you, and you buy it?"

She shook her head rapidly. "No," she whispered, her bottom lip quivering.

"And the _pictures_, Eve!" He could feel blood rushing to his ears. If this didn't win her over, nothing would. "She took those pictures _before _she talked to you! She had them all along, to show you after she knew I wouldn't be able to go through with it! She blackmailed me, and she used you to do it! She doesn't care about you; she never has! She's just a liar out for revenge!"

"_Shut up_!" she shrieked. Her hand came whistling sharply across his face, the sound of the blow echoing through the narrow hallway. The slap sent him reeling backwards; like many of the members of the diva roster, Eve was more than just a pretty face. There was plenty of strength behind it, and it left his cheek with a brutal sting.

Punk stepped back, clutching his cheek as he observed the woman in front of him. She was shaking, tears forming in her eyes; she had broken, and he knew it. "You _know _the truth, Eve," he persisted, trying not to be fazed by her strike. "You were set up, and I was set up. Please, help me."

hr

The next morning, AJ's shame and regret seemed to have doubled. It didn't help that John was reacting like a school boy who had successfully landed his first crush- he was head over heels for her now, hanging on her every word as they checked out of the hotel. She still couldn't possibly understand how she'd been so _stupid_ to think this would work out. She knew she'd have no issue making Punk jealous, now that John was all over her, but now she had another problem entirely.

John was falling in love with her.

AJ had never been one of John's biggest fans (unlike the majority of the rest of the diva's roster), but he'd always been a nice guy, and she appreciated his casual company. It had never been her intention to break his heart, but she didn't see how she could avoid that. How would she be able to sever ties with him when she was done making Punk crazy? He expected more out of her now. He wanted a relationship, and all AJ wanted was to get away.

"So why are we going to Smackdown again?" John asked as they headed to his bus. "I'm not scheduled and neither are you. Can't we just… spend the day together?" He slipped an arm around her shoulder, and she forced herself to suppress a shiver. She liked John, she really did; he was a genuine man, the classic 'nice guy'. And here she was, toying with his heart like it was her personal stepping stone. Her own behavior disgusted her.

"I told you, I promised Kaitlyn," she replied. "I want to be there for her match."

He smiled at her. "You're really dedicated to your friends," he said, squeezing her shoulder as he opened the door to his bus. "I like that."

His statement only made her stomach twist further. In truth, she hadn't spoken to Kaitlyn in several days- she knew her partner in crime wouldn't approve of her plan to drive Punk up a wall, as much as the former Chickbuster disliked the tattooed champion. The real reason, of course, is she knew Punk would be there accompanying Kofi- and she needed to dangle John in front of him yet again.

Punk's bus was already in the parking lot by the time John and AJ arrived at the arena. "Let's go say hi to everyone," she said, threading her fingers through his and tugging him into the building. They walked into catering together, where a good portion of the roster was already milling around. Her usual group of friends was sitting together near a table, with Kaitlyn nestled comfortably on Zack's lap.

"AJ!" Kaitlyn called. "I'm surprised you're-"

"Hey, guys!" AJ cut her off cheerfully, knowing the end of Kaitlyn's sentence could have spelled disaster. "What's going on?" She smiled at John as he greeted each member of the group graciously.

"Not… much," Alex said suspiciously, staring at AJ curiously. John had an arm draped around her shoulders. "Are you guys…" He glanced around, seeing Punk enter the room. "Oh, fuck."

"Are we what?" AJ asked innocently, turning to kiss John. As she pulled away from him, she turned to see her sullen ex-boyfriend near the door. He watched them for a moment, face ashen, before quickly ducking out again.

Zack shook his head. "Soap operas," he muttered.

"Hey, AJ?"

The young diva turned around, seeing Eve standing at the opposite end of the table. "Yeah?" she asked guardedly, slowly disengaging from John's embrace.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" The diva's champion glanced around. "Alone?"


	48. Chapter 48

AJ shook her head rapidly. Her ears burned, throbbing as she tried to take in what she was hearing. This couldn't be possible. She was dumbfounded throughout Eve's speech, hands clenched firmly at her sides. "I don't understand," she muttered, trying to turn away. Tears were rapidly forming in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to blink them out of existence.

"It's true," Eve assured her, pulling AJ back to face her. "I know I said the opposite last week, but it's true, AJ. We were all lied to- you, me _and _Punk."

"But why?" AJ sobbed, tears flowing freely now. She couldn't hold them back anymore. "I know Beth hates me, and I know she hates Punk, but why would she do something like this to you? And… and why would he do that? Why would he believe her and… and…" The rest of her sentence was lost as she pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. Just thinking about what Punk had done made her stomach flop, threatening to expel everything she'd eaten that day.

"What he did… was wrong," Eve agreed with a nod, taking a deep breath. The events of that night were difficult to think about. "But he did it for you. He thought it was the only way to save you, and that's why he did it. You have to know that, deep in your heart."

"But he… he hurt you," AJ whispered. She reached out tentatively to move Eve's hair back, revealing the ever-present bruise.

Eve's hand flew up to cover the wound. She stepped back, looking down. "I know he did," she whispered back. "And he shouldn't have. That's not okay, in any situation. But at the time, he thought I was part of the scheme. He couldn't control his anger… and part of me doesn't blame him for that."

"So it's for real," AJ muttered, pacing back and forth. "He was telling the truth the whole time. He tried to save me, and I just went off and I… and I… oh my God…" She ran past Eve, making her way out of the building as fast as she could. Much like the previous week, she had no idea where she was going. She just had to get away, before everything caught up to her and the world came crashing down around her.

* * *

"Well?" Punk asked.

"I talked to her," Eve answered.

"And?"

"She believed me… but she didn't take it well." The diva's champion looked down. "She took off running. Said she'd done something horrible. What's she talking about?"

"I think I might have an idea," he replied quietly, shaking his head. He would have to talk to AJ about everything later; it wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to, and his stomach was twisting just thinking about the inevitable confrontation that was brewing. He hopped off the production crate upon which he'd taken up residence, standing up to face her. "I can't thank you enough for doing this for me."

"Oh, you're not done," she reminded him tersely. "You still have to fulfill your end of the bargain, remember?"

He sighed. "Do we really have to?" he asked. "What's the point, anyway? You'll only get hurt."

"I have to," she said firmly. "I have to know why she did this to us."

"'Because she's an evil, conniving bitch' isn't enough?" he asked hopefully, but she only shook her head. He sighed again. "All right, but don't say I didn't tell you so." He followed her through the arena to the diva's locker room, where she knocked hard on the door. There was some shuffling beyond it before the door opened, Alicia Fox sticking her head out.

"Can you get Beth out here for me?" Eve asked. Alicia nodded, eyeing the pair curiously as she turned around. She hollered the Glamazon's name, and a moment later Punk's steely ex-girlfriend appeared in the doorway. As usual when she entered his line of vision, he felt his fists automatically clenching. That searing, palpable rage that was always hovering just beneath the surface was threatening to boil over.

"What the hell is this?" Beth snapped, closing the door behind her and stepping into the hallway. She clearly didn't like the sight of the two of them together.

"I know the truth, Beth," Eve hissed angrily, folding her arms. "So why don't you just admit it?"

"Admit _what_?" Beth snarled. "What are you doing with him, anyway? You've been acting weird all day."

"That's because I found out what you did!" Eve shouted. She was shaking. "You blackmailed Punk into cheating on AJ, and you _used _me to do it! Just admit it, Beth. There's no reason to hide it now. I know what you did, and I want to know why!"

To their surprise, Beth threw back her head and laughed. "Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag, then," she said simply. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at them. "You want to know _why_, Eve? That's easy; it's because _you're _easy. I needed someone to vent to, and you there. And then I needed someone to use."

"So that's it?" Eve practically whispered. "Our entire friendship was a lie?"

"You're weak," Beth spat. "I don't need people like you. Why do you think I stopped talking to Natalya?"

Listening to the whole exchange, Punk was astounded. He'd broken up with Beth for a reason, but even toward the tumultuous end of their relationship, she'd never been _that _callous. "That's low, Beth," he growled. "Even for you." He wondered briefly if it was the dissolution of their relationship that had caused her to become so cold.

"Oh, you want to talk?" Beth snapped. "Let's talk, Punk. Want to know the best part of all of this? Your best buddy is the one who put me up to the letter in the first place."

"Cut the bullshit!" He moved in front of Eve, staring Beth down. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Why, your _mentor_," Beth answered, smiling sweetly. "Paul."

Punk's blood ran cold. She was lying. She had to be. She was just trying to rattle him- that had to be it. "F-fuck you," he stammered, turning around. He started running down the hallway.

"Punk!" Eve called after him.

"I have to go!" he yelled back over his shoulder. He ran out of the building, stopping at his bus in the parking lot. He fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it as he unearthed it from his pocket; his hands were almost completely numb. She was lying. She was just a fucking liar. She had to be lying. It took him three tries to dial the number he'd intended to.

"Punk!" the voice on the end of the line said cheerfully. "What can I do for you, champ?"

Punk skipped the pleasantries. "Are you still in the city?" he demanded.

"Yes, I'm at the hotel," Paul answered. "Why? What's wrong? You sound-"

"Stay there," he ordered. "I'm on my way." He hung up abruptly, boarding his bus. He was going to get to the bottom of this, and he was going to find out that it was a lie. It had to be a lie.


	49. Chapter 49

"AJ, wait!" John called, running out to the parking lot. "AJ, talk to me. What happened?"

"I can't," AJ muttered. She tried to wipe her tears away with one hand, yanking at the door to his bus with the other. "I… I can't…"

"Calm down," he begged, digging his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door for her. "Baby, tell me what happened."

_Baby. _The word burned her ears. Images of the previous night flooded her mind- if they devastated her before, they made her sick now. Everything was happening too fast. She could barely process it. "I'm _not _your baby!" she cried, pushing past him to get into the bus. She had to get her bag and get out of here.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," he said, following her. "What's wrong, sweetie? What did Eve tell you that has you so… upset?"

"Stop!" she shrieked, covering her ears. "Stop calling me that! I… I'm not… I'm… I'm sorry, John… I just can't do this…" She tried not to look at him as she grabbed her suitcase, but she couldn't help it- she stole a glance back at him over her shoulder, seeing the ashen expression that was rapidly taking over his features.

"But what about last night?" he asked, a painful chord striking through his voice.

She quickly looked away from him. "Last night was a mistake," she said quietly, trying to push past him.

"You're kidding," he replied incredulously. "_You _pushed _me _into sex, and now you're the one regretting it?" He shook his head, massaging his forehead with a groan. "I knew this was a bad idea. I _knew _it. I knew you weren't over Punk. Fuck!" He shoved something off the nearest table- an empty mug.

"I don't know what to say," she sobbed, fresh tears spurting from her eyes now.

"You don't know what to say?" he echoed, throwing his hands up. "You come crawling onto my lap, make me fall in love with you, and now you just have nothing to say?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, rolling her bag past him to the door.

He sighed, looking down. "Yeah," he muttered. "Me too."

* * *

"Paul!" Punk yelled, banging on his manager's hotel room door. "Paul! Open the fucking door!" During his bus ride to the hotel, his anger had steadily risen. The more times he went over it in his head, the more sense it made- Paul's insistence, months ago, that he cut AJ out of his life for his own good. The glee with which his mentor regarded the segment on RAW when Punk had revealed his affair with AJ to the world.

"Jesus, Punk, calm the hell down!" Paul growled from just beyond the door, quickly running to open. He was dressed casually, in jeans and an old T-shirt; it was rare that he was seen in anything other than a suit. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

Punk shoved past him to get into the room; he was in no mood for Paul's usual shtick. "I'm going to ask you a very simple question," he hissed, "and you're going to give a very simple, truthful answer. Is that understood?"

Paul's eyes widened. "Punk-"

"_Is that understood?_" he repeated fervently.

"Sure, sure, fine," Paul answered quickly, stepping back uncertainly. He'd never seen his protégé so furious, and it was beginning to frighten him. "What's going on?"

"Did you put Beth up to writing the complaint letter?" Punk asked, folding his arms.

Paul began to laugh nervously. "That's- that's what this is about?" He laughed again. "Come on, Punk. I thought something terrible was going on. Why don't we go grab a bite to eat and-"

"_Don't fucking lie to me!_" Punk shouted, grabbing a fistful of Paul's shirt collar. "Tell me the truth, you little fucking weasel!" The rage inside him that had been threatening to boil over all day was coming rapidly to the surface, and it was all directed toward the man at his mercy.

"Are you insane?" Paul snapped. "Get your hands off me!"

Punk only tightened his grip, shoving Paul up against the wall. "Tell me!" he seethed. "Tell me what you fucking did, you son of a bitch! I swear, Paul, if you keep lying to me…" His eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, glared daggers at the former ECW booker. He began to twist Paul's shirt collar, slowly cutting off his oxygen supply, much the way he had to Daniel weeks earlier.

"All right!" Paul gasped. He battled desperately against Punk's iron grip, but it was hopeless; he was a talker, not a fighter. "All right! It was me, I admit it! Just let me down!"

Punk's fingers immediately uncurled, the fabric of Paul's shirt sliding off his fingertips. He stepped back slowly, hands shaking. He had been wrong. Somehow, he'd been wrong. The one constant throughout his career-Paul's support and undying loyalty-was nothing more than a lie, just like every other scum-sucking executive he'd come across. Everyone along the way who had told him to be wary of Paul Heyman had been right, and he just hadn't been smart enough to see it.

"Why?" he demanded finally, trying to let his fury hide just how betrayed he felt. "How could you do this to me, you lying bastard?"

"I did this for _you_!" Paul cried. "Can't you see, Punk? This was for you!"

"How could ruining the best thing in my life possibly be for _me, _Paul?" Punk yelled back. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about _you_, you selfish, cocky son of a bitch!" Paul snapped. "That anger you felt after I got rid of that girl, that rage- look at the wonders it's done for your career! Last summer, when you were angry about being underused, you skyrocketed! You were the talk of the town! There wasn't a person in the building who didn't know your name or face. But you were starting to get complacent! You were being quiet and agreeable. I couldn't let you stay complacent, Punk. I had to do something, and she was perfect. You got that fire back, and now you're all over again! Don't you see? I'm _helping _you!"

"Helping me?" Punk yelled. "You're insane, Paul! You're fucking insane! You have no problem just walking over anyone and everyone to get what you want, even if what you want is fucking ridiculous!" He was pacing back and forth now, running a hand frantically over his nearly shaven head. "I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this. You- you ruined us. You ruined me! And for no reason!"

"Oh, there was a reason," Paul shot back hotly. "You were weak, Punk. You were weak and you needed me to get back to the man I made you in the first place!"

Before Paul had even finished speaking, Punk was on him again. He grabbed the older man by the shirt again, winding back his other hand for a fierce punch.

"Go ahead!" Paul spat. "Do it, Punk! Hit me! Because that's how you solve all of your problems, isn't it? With violence? You're just a punk kid, _Phil_. It's all you'll ever be!"

Paul's words stunned him. Before he knew it, his hands were shaking again, and he let Paul scrambled away. "No," he spat. "I'm not gonna be that guy, because I'm better than that." He stepped back, nearing the door. "We're done, you understand me? I better not see your face outside of in ring or taped segments. If I could, I'd get your ass booted out of those, too. But I can't, so I expect to only deal with you when it's absolutely necessary. Otherwise… you'd better never be in a room alone with me. Got it?"

He left without waiting for an answer. Storming off down the hallway, he tried to regain his composure. He wanted to leave all of his rage behind in that room, as much as it pulled at his heart to do so. He needed to be calm for the last confrontation of the day… the most important.


	50. Chapter 50

AJ was sitting on the floor of her newly booked hotel room when her phone began to ring. She'd been curled up against the bed for about an hour now, practically catatonic after running out on John. She had been doing a fairly good job of completely ignoring her feelings so far, but seeing Punk's name pop up on her screen brought it all crashing back.

"No, no…" she muttered miserably. "Not yet. I'm not ready." She shook her head, putting her phone down on her thigh. With her breath held, she watched as it went to voicemail… and sighed heavily as Cult of Personality began to play again. There was no escaping it- she knew Punk. He would keep calling until she answered, all night if he had to. He was a persistent man. Taking a deep breath, she put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"AJ!" He sounded relieved. "I'm… I'm glad you answered."

"Really?" she whispered.

"Yes!" he blurted out. "Um… Where are you? We need to talk… face-to-face."

AJ almost didn't tell him. She didn't think she could face him just yet, after all that she had done… but his voice tugged desperately at her heartstrings. She _had _to see him. She needed him, whether she was willing to admit it again or not. "I'm back at the hotel," she replied after a long pause. "Room 702."

"Oh, you're here?" he asked. "Great! I'm a couple of floors down. I'll be there in a few minutes."

_Already_? she nearly squeaked, but she managed to keep the thought to herself. "All right," she said. "I guess I'll see you soon." She sprang up from her spot on the floor, pacing back and forth so frantically she nearly tripped over her suitcase. What could she even say to him? Should she apologize? Should she make _him _apologize? He hadn't even arrived yet, and already the immeasurable shame that had been building up was already back, heating up her cheeks. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

It seemed much faster than a few minutes. Before she knew it she heard his tell-tale, sing-songy knock, and automatically she began to bite her nails. "Not yet," she muttered again. "Not yet." But she couldn't just keep him waiting there, just beyond the door. Trying to keep her composure, she inhaled sharply and opened the door. There he was, tattoos, battered jeans, and an Avengers shirt. He was the same old Punk he'd always been.

"Punk, I… I…" She swallowed hard. She'd been trying not to cry, but that endeavor was hopeless. Arms curled against her chest, she was already sobbing again. She wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, but somehow she couldn't find the nerve to.

"It's okay," he said quietly, entering the room and closing the door behind him. "It's okay." He gathered her into his arms, pulling her against his chest. His heartbeat thudded loud and strong against her ear, a constant reminder of his presence in her life.

"But I did something awful, Punk!" she cried, her tears pouring out against his shirt. "Just awful! You'll hate me for it, I know you will!"

"I could never hate you," he said firmly, stroking her hair. But his stomach was already starting to tighten. He didn't want to hear what he knew she had to tell him.

"But I…" she sputtered. "John and I… We… I…" She couldn't say it. Just thinking about it brought fresh tears to her eyes, and fresh wounds to the surface.

He felt his heart skip a beat. He'd known all along; from the moment he saw them together, he knew it had happened. But hearing it from her made it real. "It's okay," he said finally. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" she cried, pounding his chest angrily with her fists. "Nothing is okay! For months, it hasn't been okay! All this back and forth, the lies, the secrets… It's insane!"

To his own surprise and hers, he laughed harshly. He couldn't help it; the prospect of the situation, still fresh in his mind, was still incredulous to him. "It gets better," he assured her. "Want to know who was behind the whole thing?"

"I'm not sure I want to know," she muttered, looking up at him.

"Well, I'm gonna tell you," he said. "It was Paul."

"_What_?" she shrieked, stepping back from him in disbelief. "Paul? The whole thing?"

"Sort of," he answered. He was secretly glad she found the idea as horrifying as he did. "I'm pretty sure he didn't have anything to do with the latest little scandal, but he's the catalyst that started it all. He put Beth up to writing the letter in the first place."

"No way." She shook her head. "There's just no way. I always knew he was a snake, but he was like a father figure to you… He always looked out for you, since day one! That's just…" She bit her lip, stepping back into his embrace. "I'm so sorry, Punk. I know how much he meant to you."

He just sighed. "He really did," he muttered. "But I'm not here to talk about him. I'm here to talk about you and me."

"You and me?" she whispered, pulling back from him uncertainly. "After everything that's happened… You and Eve, me and John… Is there still a you and me?"

A small smile appeared on his face. "Tough question, isn't it?" he agreed. Her mentions made him think briefly to his night with the diva's champion, of AJ's night with John, but he pushed them away. It wasn't the time to agonize over the past. It would take them both time to heal, to move past what they had for and in spite of each other, but not now. "I want there to be, if you'll still have me."

"Oh, Punk…" She automatically bit her nails again. "Really? After everything I've done to get back at you for things that weren't even really your fault in the first place, you… You still want this plain, geeky chick from New Jersey?"

He took her firmly by the shoulders, bending his neck to see her at eye level. "AJ, listen to me," he said. "I'm no hero. I'm not a white knight. I'm not the guy your mother's always wanted for you. I can't make you a bunch of promises, of a white picket fence and three little rugrats running chasing your dog around the backyard. But I can tell you that I love you. It may sound stupid, and I sure as hell feel stupid saying it, but I think I loved you from the very first time you kissed me and then pushed me through a damn table. I loved you then, I love you now, and I can say with pretty damn near certainty that no matter what happens in the future, I'm always gonna love you. That's what this inked-up, punk kid from Chicago can offer you."

Her fearful expression slowly turned up into a smile. "I think I can take that offer," she said quietly, "because I loved you from the first time I kissed you, too." She looked down for a moment, her smile dropping slightly. "But Punk? There's one thing you do have to promise me if we're going to give this thing one last shot."

He grinned at her. "And what's that?" he asked.

"No more games."

"No more games," he agreed. He pressed his lips to hers, sealing their promise with all the love he could.

* * *

**And that's a wrap, folks! Man, this one was fun to write. Big thanks to everyone who stuck by me during this wild ride, you guys are awesome! I'm going to be coming out with a sequel to my other story, End of Heartache, very soon (possibly tomorrow), so keep a look out for it! I hope everyone enjoyed Games We Play. Until next time, guys! **


End file.
